12 years of war Rise of steel and nations
by Dragonkingofthestars
Summary: A story of a Empire lashing out, of a ancient nation pushed to the breaking point, the healing of a damned land and A young queen trying to breath life into her nation. By Black powder, steam and army's the world is reborn. Betaed by Lord of Deamons
1. intro

It was a dark age, a bloody age, an age of daemons and of sorcery.

It was an age of battle and death, and of the world's ending.

Amidst all of the fire, flame and fury it was a time of might heroes, of bold deeds,

and great courage

but then something happened. Something no one predicted.

not the elves within the white tower,

dwarves in their mountain holds,

nor the hoards of chaos battering at the gates of civilization

not the doom sayers and predictors of the Empire.

The End time came.

And they went.

And the world remained.

It is a new age.

An age of smoke, to be sure, but clouds of industry.

An age of fire true, but wholesome flame of coal, and wood forming that what is new.

An age of enlightening as the light of knowledge begin to flicker across the land.

And it is an age where the shadows are beaten back.

War's are still wages, battles still fought, and upon the cricable of war,

something greater is forged then any plow, sword or cannon.

It is an age of Nations.


	2. Timeline

2534 - Socket bayonets are developed for muskets removing the need for close combat formations.

2535 - An invention is copied from the dwarfs and combined with a touch of human innovation to produce rifling and the Minié ball. This leads to the development of the "Rifle Musket" the device is quickly spread though out the imperial army and musketeers replaces all of the empire's standing army.

2536 – Archaon the Everchosen begins his 'final war' from the north hoards of chaos worshipers push south. In the Kislev town of Bealton, the Empire and there ally meet the hoard. The Chaos troops army is defeated and the Archaon routed. Central to the Imperial victory is the use of the new military formations.

2537 - Following Bealton, the Imperial Army is remodeled. Musketeers replace pike men and halberdiers as the primary line troops.

2538 – The Empire's "New Model Army" routs an Orc Waaagh! on the edge of the Drakwald Forest with ease.

2538 - The Imperial College of Engineers in Nuln is tasked with the reform of the Imperial Artillery Train to complement the New Model Army. In order to do this, all existing artillery pieces are reclassified based on the weight of the shot that they fire, and several new designs are created. 2-pounder light cannon enter service with the Imperial Horse Artillery, and provide highly mobile support for more aggressive commanders, whilst 12 and 16-pound "field guns" become the standard artillery pieces of the Imperial Army. 24 and 36-pound siege guns are also developed, and mortars are separated into 16 and 24-pounders. The production of more esoteric and unreliable artillery pieces, such as the Hellblaster Volley Gun and Rocket Launcher is discontinued at this time.

2539 - Richard von Gustva publishes his treatise "On the Use of Firearms in Warfare", in which he prophesizes that in future "all victory will sprout from the barrel of a gun". He also claims that the destiny of the Empire is to rule over all the lands of man, and beyond.

2541 - Emperor Karl Franz dies peacefully.

2542 - On a massive wave of popular support, the Elector Counts appoint Graf Boris Todbringer, as Emperor.

2543 - Albert Gatling perfects his design for a six-barreled repeating rifle. Officially designated as the "Gatling Gun", but quickly nicknamed "Coffee grinder" by Imperial troops, Gatling's new weapon astounds military commentators and commanders alike, with its ability to fire up to three hundred shots per minute, whilst being serviced by only two crewmen. The Emperor orders that one be issued to each battalion of musketeers. The design is remarkable similar to a dwarf naval anti air weapon.

2547 - The Emperor dispatches a force of five thousand musketeers, supported by two thousand cavalry and an artillery train of more than four hundred pieces to purge Sylvania of the taint of the Vampire Counts once and for all, under the command of Stefan von Gustva, son of the famed military tactician Richard Von Gustva.

2549 - A legion of over fifteen thousand undead meets Stefan at the fords of the River Stir within cannon range of Wurtbad, led by a coalition of the most powerful amongst the vampiric aristocracy. Stefan promptly digs in. After two days of waiting, the vampires launch a massed assault on his forces. As the undead struggle to cross the Stir, the Imperial artillery opens fire, scything down thousands. Less than half of the horde reaches the far bank of the Stir, which becomes dammed by corpses. As the undead army enters musket range, Stefan personally gives the order for the infantry to fire. The highly trained musketeers shred the enemy ranks with lethally efficient volleys, destroying the majority of the host within minutes. Sensing victory, Stefan orders his cavalry forwards, resulting in the surviving undead being run down with ease. However, the vampire leaders escape into the woods of Sylvania. Having crushed the military might of the Counts, Stefan's army spreads out to begin the "pacification" of Sylvania begins, an operation that is to last for eight years.

2552 - A regiment of infantry under Colonel Icondra is tasked with escorting a shipment of muskets and ammunition to the main Imperial encampment at Reuth Losa. Whilst resting overnight in the village of Pressien, they are attacked by a large force of undead, commanded by the vampire Hans Drenner, a survivor of Stefan's victory in 2549. Hopelessly outnumbered, Icondra orders his men to hand out the muskets they had been transporting to those villagers wish to fight. Amazingly, every man and teenage boy in the village volunteers, and Icondra is able to mount a successful defense of the wooden palisades surrounding Pressien. When outriders from Reuth Losa arrive three days later to investigate the missing supplies, they find Pressien in the hands of the living, and Drenner's head on a spike. Stefan is greatly impressed with the courage of the Pressians, and forms a regiment of Pressian volunteers. Colonel Icondra is promoted to Brigadier, and charged with forming a Sylvanian Corps to support Stefan's forces. He makes his headquarters at Pressien, which begins to expand as locals flock to the safety of the Imperial forces.

2553-2556 - Icondra launches a massive recruitment drive across Sylvania; dozens arrive at Pressien to enlist every day. By 2556, the Sylvanian Corps is fully mobilized, consisting of three thousand musketeers, one thousand cavalry, and fifty artillery pieces. Brigadier Icondra is promoted to General, and is ordered to lead his Sylvanians against the last stronghold of the Vampire Counts: Drakenhof.

2556 - Icondra's Sylvanians storm Drakenhof after a week-long siege. Although the Imperial forces triumph, and the vampires of Sylvania are destroyed, less than five hundred men survive the attack. General Icondra orders his artillery to reduce Drakenhof to rubble, and leads his surviving men back to Pressien.

2557 - Eight years after the first shot was fired outside of Wurtbad, Stefan signs the Declaration of Pressien, which proclaims Sylvania to be officially pacified, and ready to become a full Imperial province. The Emperor ratifies the Declaration, and Pressien becomes the new capital of Sylvania. Elections are held amongst the people, and Stefan von Gustva is chosen as the first Elector Count.

2558 - The Pressian Military Academy is founded in the growing city of Pressien by General Icondra, with the aim of teaching the officers of the Imperial army how to use the men under their command more effectively. Pressien becomes a renowned center of military learning.

2560 - An Orc horde rampages through Ostland, burning a number of villages. An Imperial army under the Sylvanian General Reinhardt Tarein intercepts them at Englesdorf, and through the clever deployment of 2-pounder cannon is able to rout the Orcs in short order. Only two hundred Imperial soldiers are killed, and Tarein is hailed as a hero throughout the Empire.

2562 - The first group of young officers graduates from the Pressian Military Academy.

2564 - A "minor" border clash between General Tarein's army and a force Bretonnia knights results in the unavenged death of dozens of Bretonnia nobles. The Bretonnias dub the Gatling Guns "pipe organs from hell", and retreat across the border, but not before Reinhardt Tarein has been slain by Lord Cariden. Under the temporary command of Brigadier Kagemann, the Imperial army halts. Several days after the battle, several Sylvanian soldiers serving in the army decide to avenge Tarein's death. They sneak across the the border and ambush Lord Cariden and his retinue during a hunt. The bodies of Cariden and his men are mutilated, and then strung from trees along the border. The killers are caught upon their return to the Imperial camp, where Brigadier Kagemann has them shot at dawn in order to try and prevent further Bretonnia retaliation. War is averted, but relations remain frosty for the next twenty years.

2570 - Emperor Graf Boris Todbringer, is killed while touring Sylvania by elven assassins. The Sylvanians, a people fiercely loyal to the Emperor who led them from the shadows, are enraged. 3 days later the High Elf ambassador to the Empire is killed by a single shot from a hunting rifle. The assassin is never caught. In retaliation, the elves withdraw all their support for the Empire against the forces of Chaos in the North.

2571 - Otto Grisden becomes Emperor. He seeks to replace the High Elves as allies by courting the Dwarf High King, Thorken Ironhelm. The Dwarves readily agree to an alliance with the Empire, especially since the Empire is no longer allied to their ancestral elven enemies. The population and wealth of the Empire grows with the benefit of Dwarven trade.

2575 - Elven raids along the western coast of the Empire kill hundreds. The Emperor accuses the rulers of Ulthuan of attempting to start a war, which the elves deny, but King Ironhelm warns the Emperor of the untrustworthiness of elves, citing the example of the War of the Beard.

2576 - The Emperor tries to repair Imperial relations with the High Elves by dispatching emissaries to Ulthuan. The Imperial diplomats never reach their destination, and although the elves protest their innocence, Emperor Otto is convinced of their involvement.

2757 - Emperor Otto, backed by King Ironhelm, severs diplomatic relations with Ulthuan.

2760 - Emperor Otto, passed a reform bill of the collage of engineers, decree, that "It shall be done, that all national engineers shall commit a copy of all blue prints, designs, out lines to a national archive. the submitted designs must be proven accurate as compared to the engineers master lest he forfeit his patronage. Any man found using the designs of engineer with out prier approval, as long as the inventor or the inventor's next of kin live. The despite the disapproval of the engineering guild it passes into effect.

2580 - Court Stefan von Gustva dies. His successor is his son Richter von Gustva, a graduate of the Pressian Military Academy.

2583 - The number of border clashes with the Bretonnias increases. The Emperor orders Electoral Count Richter of Sylvania to send forces to defend Axebite Pass.

2584 - An Imperial fleet chases an elven raiding vessel into Bretonnia waters. Bretonnia ships attack the Imperial fleet, but are no match for the Iron clad ships of the Empire, and are swiftly destroyed. The Bretonnias demand compensation from the Empire for the loss of their ships and men. Emperor Otto refuses, and moves more troops to the border.

2585 - An Imperial patrol is attacked just inside the Empire by Bretonnia knight-errants. Seeing an excuse for war, the Emperor orders the invasion of Brettonia. Led by Count Richter von Gustva, ten thousand Imperial soldiers march through Axebite Pass, sweeping aside the roadside forts and defenses with ease, before sacking the towns and villages surrounding Parravon.

2586 - King Xevion of Brettonia orders the Duke of Belphin to meet the Imperial forces at Breitenfield. The Duke musters five thousand knights, supported by twelve thousand men-at-arms. The smaller Imperial army forms a gunline, and awaits the Bretonnia charge. The Bretonnia nobles oblige, and are cut down with ease by the Imperial Musketeers. With their lords slain, the commoners flee, allowing von Gustva to lead his forces deeper into Brettonia. Breitenfield cements the dominance of the rifle over cavalry.

2587 - The Bretonnia king makes a last stand at the battle of Iddern, along with several hundred of his household knights. Charging at the Imperial lines, he and his men are wiped out with a single volley. As his father did in Sylvania, Richter von Gustva orders his men to spread out and pacify the defeated Bretonnias.

2590 - After three years of fighting, Bretonia is formally annexed. The provinces of Ideras, Brean, Vicky and Gulla are formed and the elector counts are chosen. Richter Von Gustva returns to Sylvania. For five years an uneasy peace reigns throughout the Empire.

2595 - Elven raiders sack the city of Iteran on the northern coast. Emperor Otto himself embarks for Ulthuan on a desperate mission of peace, aboard the Imperial flagship Hammer of Sigmar He is never seen again.

2596 - A year after it left, a lone sailor from the "Hammer of Sigmar" is washed ashore on the Brean coast. He claims that High Elves destroyed the ship, and killed Emperor Otto.

2597 - The Elector count of Sylvania, Richter Von Gustva, is made Emperor. He gains assurances from King Ironhelm that the Dwarves will support the Empire in a war against Ulthuan.

2599 - Emperor Richter orders the construction of a massive invasion fleet.

2600 - Thirty thousand Imperial soldiers set sail for Ulthuan. After several weeks they encounter the first elven ships.

* * *

'_My initiative won us a great victory!' _No. That sort of tone was too arrogant before his lord. "_My lord, I am honored to inform you that..." _No! Far too subservient…

There was nothing the Dread lord Irenekon Fighterrider feared. He head fought, raided and killed his way from frozen Norsca, to hot Lustria, to far away Carthy and Nippon. But still, only two beings could inspire fear in his black iron heart.

One of them was Tyrion of the high elves, Irenekon skin crawled in the memory of that battle, of a blade moving like quick silver and blood flowing thicker and faster then even the most frantic sacrifices to Khaine.

But it was not to Tyrion he be supplicating himself. It was to the other being.

The great Witch King: a being older then his blood line, and crueler then any who might have sired him, and considering he had the blood of witch hags and more then a few assassins in his veins, that was no pikers claim

The Dread Lord walked down the long hallways of the palace of the Witch King, armored boot ringing lightly off the stonework.

While he was sure of his victory, he had no way of knowing for sure the Witchking's reaction and if he chose his words wrong, his head would leave his shoulder faster then a mantis catches a mouse.

And at the last moment: he was second-guessing his own speech. It had taken months to get this audition only by insisting it was important, important enough that if he did not please his lord. He would die slowly.

Consequently he had gone the extra mile, or kilometer as the humans would have put it, polishing his coal black armor till it gleamed like a black marble tombstone, his cape of cold one hide was waxed till it gleamed.

But as he approached his one true lord, as he fell under the soulless dark pits that were his gaze he knew, he could not impress such a being with mere appearance.

He remember what he had been told, and when he was roughly three yards away from the throne he fell to his knees offering the supplication "My lord." _'There that's the tone!'_ he thought. _'Not bad, not too self confident or meek! Right?' _sweat dripped from his face dropping onto a well-worn stain in the silk carpet.

The Witch King spoke, in a voice that was as harsh as a knife grating against bone, and as cold as a winter tombstone.

"Why are you here?"

Irenekon had to fight to keep his voice steady as he replayed.

"My lord, I wish to report upon a plot which will aid the conquest of Ulthuan." Irenekon face was pointed toward the floor so he missed it, but the Witch king seemed to slightly, perk up with interest. How could this worm before him aid in the war to claim Ulthuan?

"Speak then." He did not need to threaten to tell Irenekon that his fate resented upon the answer.

The Dread Lord hesitated, swallowed, and then spoke.

"My lord, for many years my warriors have raided the Empire, and when I saw how the Empire responded to a border clash with the Bretonnias saw a chance to try and split the ties between Ulthuan and Altdorf."

The Witch King regarded him coldly. "Why was I not told?"

"Had it failed my lord, my fate would have been sealed upon a alter. By acting on my own, and with my own resources I risked only my wealth for the great boons and benefits."

The Witch King smiled coldly. He could appreciate treachery when it was used for him.

"I see. Continue."

"Yes my lord. For years we have masqueraded as High Elves, and inflicted great harm upon the Empire. We have driven a wedge between the High Elves and the Empire, just as you did with the Dwarves."

The Witch King looked at his lackey, intrigued as possibilities ringing though his head.

"And?"

There was a look of triumph upon the Dread Lord's face as he delivered the ultimate result of his plan

"The empire seeks to invade Ulthuan, their 'great' Ironclads steam south as we speak."

The Witch King threw back his head, and laughed, a cold dead thing that had no right masquerading as a thing of humor. A sound that would make a dragon pause in fear.

"When the humans have weakened the defenses of Ulthuan, and worn down their forces we will launch our assault and crush them both." He pointed at the warrior who had made this chance at victory possible.

"You shall be richly rewarded. What do you desire?"

Irenekon grinned in feral anticipation of the coming bloodshed, and that he was still alive.

"A place in the front of the battle, and to be the first warrior off the ships after yourself, my lord."

The Witch King raised a fist and laughed again, the cold laugh of a killer. The he looked down Irenekon the kneeling before him.

"You will have it! This time Ulthuan will fall!"


	3. First contact

"_The Twelve Years War was a period of much change and chaos. The creation of parliament of Brettonia, the formation of Caledonia, the rise of a new Phoenix King, the defeat of the last bayherd. New enemy's rose, old enemy's fell, and upon a thousand battle fields, the words of history where written by the dead and dying. At battles like the Valley of Tears, Marye's charge and the last stand of the Drakworld the world pivoted on it's head in the span of moments. To understand this time of change, it is best to understand it, one event at a time, and though the fall of Bretonnia was indeed important. Most historians view the start of the war between the Empire and the High Elves of Ulthuan as the true start of the time , although some argue that the period began with the Imperial annexation of Bretonnia."_

_Excerpt taken from a HNN special on the Twelve Years War._

The sea had existed before mankind, before Dwarfs, before Elves and would continue to exist long after they had all faded from the earth.

_'Damn it_

Thought Alltha, Captain of the Sea Guard, something about the sea always made him philosophical. The Elven ship _Dawn Racer _slid gracefully across the water with its ships, _Sea Walker _and_Wind Challenger_, flanking it on either side.

The sky was clear save a few wispy clouds, the ocean had just enough chop to it to remind a person that he was alive.

Alltha focused his attention away from the water and resumed the task of watching the horizon for enemy vessels. His orders were to watch for approaching Imperial ships, and warn Ulthuan of any imminent attack. All around him the ship buzzed with the low sounds of activity, the cries of the helmsman, the flapping of sails and the creak of wood.

Alltha sighed. It was an unpleasant job, and one that he would much rather not be doing.

Not that he had any doubts that it had to be done, or that it lacked honor. It was simply the fact that he remembered fighting alongside the men of the Empire in less troubled times.

Unconsciously Alltha rubbed a scar across his chest, an orc had given him that wound, renting his fine chain mail with it brutal strength. It's brutal weapon cutting the flesh beneath the armor with all the ease of tearing paper, battering him to the ground.

The orc would have finished him off with a single ax swing, had a human not step between them

His name had been Alexis Daneil a proud knight of the Blazeing Sun, his armor gleaming he stepped forward and ran his sword though the orc's chest. That had been almost 200 years ago and he was proud to have called that man his friend.

This new Empire though, was powerful and power-hungry in equal measure. Much wants more, mused Alltha, as he gazed out over the sea.

The Empire had demonstrated its new power in recent years with the conquest of Bretonia. It troubled Alltha that such power was in the hands of a race so notoriously fond of war. More so that the power was as great at it seemed to be.

Could the high elves, even at the height of their power have taken Bretonia as fast? He told him self yes, but he had his doubts.

Leaning from the rigging, Alltha brought a telescope to his eye and searched the horizon again, finding nothing. He was about to put away the telescope when a faint smudge in the distance caught his eye.

Alltha began climbing swiftly down the rigging, bellowing orders to stand to and ready the bolt throwers. Responding to his commands like his own fingers, the _Dawn Racer_ turned hard and began running with the wind. To either side the _Sea Walker _and_ Wind Challenger _followed suit, the graceful elven hulls cutting through the waves like blades through silk.

At that moment, many miles away, Admiral Adalhelm was feeling equally introspective. Under his feet the cruiser _Titan, _spearhead of the Imperial invasion fleet, shook with each breath of her mighty steam engines, her paddles churning the water to froth as the mighty ironclad ploughed through the swell.

Adalhelm shifted his weight nervously. His lookouts had just spotted sails on the horizon, and the deck below him bustled with activity as the crew prepared for battle. The twenty rifled cannon broadside batteries that made the _Titan_ such a lethal ship-killer were being loaded and run out, and marines in their powder-blue coats formed up along the rails, rifles loaded and bayonets fixed.

The reason for the Admiral's nerves was simple. The Elves of Ulthuan were renowned seafarers, and the ironclad fleets of the Imperial Navy, whilst effective against Brettonian carracks, had never been tried against the swift ships of the High Elves.

The Empire's Dwarfen allies had assured them that wooden vessels were no match for armored battleships, but privately Adalhelm doubted if the Dwarfs could be trusted on this. They were poor seafarers, who had no appreciation for the intricacies of modern naval combat. That and there own grudges with the elves would of course lend them to understateing there abilities.

Gone were the days when ships of the line clashed, slab-sided killers exchanging hundred-gun broadsides at pistol range. The world was moving quickly, thought Adalhelm, and the Dwarfs would have to move with it, or risk being left behind.

Normaly his place would be on the bridge of the _Titan, _from there the network of sound tubes would allow him to control the ship with all the skill of a artist with his brush, but for this frsit battle Adelhelm stood on the top deck to better observe the battle from a position better then the enclosed bridge room. He knew in his heart it was slightly foolish but still, he want to see how his ship was fairing so that in a the real battles to come he would know with no dobut they would serve, even if he died to elven blade or bow.

The Admiral saw that there were three elven long ships, smaller and lighter than an Imperial ironclad, but much faster with a following wind. He laughed scornfully to hide his nerves, the laugh attracted the attention of his his second-in-command, and nominal captain in charge of the _Titan_ when Adelhelm was not comendering it for his flag ship, Flag-Captain Gerhard.

"What is it sir?" he inquired as always beside his superior side.

"Look at their weapons" Adlehelm said, his confidence returning over his earlyer dobuts and half doubts about his crew.

With the clicks of fine empire glass makers Gerhard expanded his telescope and turned it onto the approaching vessels scanning them with well trained eyes, and smiled.

"Bolt throwers. Even at close range they won't be able to do more than scratch the paint." he clicked it shut the finality of a flint lock rasping shut.

"This will be over quickly." Said Adalhelm self-assured, and self assureing him self.

Aboard the _Dawn Racer_ Alltha stared through his telescope at the approaching ship, noting with disdain the smoke-billowing funnel and churning paddle-wheels. _Dwarfs_, he thought, bent on avenging some ancient grudge, no doubt. Suddenly, a flash of gold at the enemy vessels stern caught his eye. It was a golden griffon, embroidered on a black flag. Alltha gasped.

"Imperials" he breathed. This was the closest an Imperial warship had come to Ulthuan unannounced for centuries, and given the current political climate it was unlikely to be on a social visit. He lowered his telescope, and sent orders via his flag officer to the _Sea Walker _and _Wind Challenger_. The two ships responded immediately, altering their courses to swing wide of the approaching Imperial vessel.

Raising the telescope to his eye once more, Alltha began to count the gunports along the ironclads armoured sides. His blood ran cold as he counted eight, nine, ten ports.

"Isha protect us" he murmured "twenty guns". Alltha had not become an officer of the Sea Guard by being a coward, however, and felt sure that he could win the fight. After all, his force outnumbered the Imperials by three ships to one.  
~

The distance between the ships narrowed rapidly as steam power rushed to meet sail power head on. On the _Titan_, Admiral Adalhelm watched the elven ships split up with grim satisfaction. The fact that one ship would pass either side of the _Titan_ meant that he could hit them both simultaneously with broadsides, whilst his close-range weapons targeted the third vessel. He looked along the length of his ship, seeing the crews of the upper-deck Gatling guns and light cannon preparing their weapons for action.

Suddenly, Master Gunner Buchert was by his side.  
Change it to: A venerable officer and a fine man but much to his Adalhelm's annoyance, also an Old Salt who was notoriously stubborn about not trusting the new sound tubes that ran through the ship. A quirk which while not something he approved of was also not worth admonishing in the midst of a battle.

"We have range on the two ships flanking us, Admiral" he said, with no more emotion than if he had been commenting on the weather.

"Good" replied Adalhelm "prepare to fire on my command".

Buchert saluted, and took station under the starboard rail. Adalhelm watched the ships closing on him with eager anticipation. When he could make out the individual figures in their rigging, he raised his left arm. He waited for a few seconds, savoring the moment. He took a deep breath, and swung his arm down.

"Fire!"  
~

Alltha watched, powerless, as the Imperial ship disappeared in a cloud of acrid white smoke, the mighty roar of twenty cannon shaking the sea. The _Wind Challenger_'s mainsail flapped madly as shots punched through it, going high and wide of the hull. Broken spars and ropes tumbled to the deck, and several elves were thrown overboard, but no serious damage had been done.

The _Sea Walker _was not so fortunate. The full force of the broadside caught her squarely amidships, the heavy shells exploding with gouts of flame. Burning wreckage was thrown high into the air as the _Sea Walker _was blown apart by the Imperial gunnery.

Looking on helplessly, Alltha realized that his only means of defeating the Imperial ship was to board it before it could fire again.  
"Close in!" he bellowed to his crew drawing his sword. "We must board them, and avenge our brothers!"  
The _Dawn Racer_'s speed increased, the crew cramming the yards with every scrap of sail as every elf aboard burned like dry wood in there desire for vengeance. The _Wind Challenger _mirrored the action, swinging towards the enemy in preparation for boarding.

Adalhelm yelled in triumph as the elven ship broke apart under his guns."Well done, Master Buchert" he shouted across the deck. "My compliments to the starboard battery"

Buchert acknowledged the praise with a smile and a salute from his current position by one of the bow Gatling guns.

In the cramped confines of the gunnery deck, the gun crews worked feverishly to reload their still-smoking weapons, seeing the remaining enemy ships closing through the open gun ports. On the bridge above them, Adalhelm also noted the approaching enemy. He smiled to Gerhard.  
"They mean to board us."

"Fucking savages" snorted Gerhard. "They think to attack an Imperial ironclad with swords and spears? You were right, Admiral. This will be over quickly."

Adalhelm nodded, and looked over at Master Gunner Buchert once more.

"Prepare the close-range defenses" he shouted over the noise of the crew. Turning to his bridge crew, he pointed at a junior rating.  
"You" he said. "Tell Major Zeiss to have his men prepare to repel boarders." The young man saluted, and ran from the bridge.

Looking back down the length of the ship, Adalhelm saw the two elven vessels closing fast, their decks heavy with soldiers. A young rating charged up beside Adelhelm, face flushed and breathing heavily. He quickly threw a salute.

"Sir, Master Gunner Buchert reports that the enemy are about to enter Gatling range" he said, barely pausing to take breath.

The Admiral nodded. "Tell Master Gunner Buchert that he may fire at his discretion" he said, sending the rating away again with a wave of his gloved hand.

He watched the young man, boy in truth, ran back. "We really need to get Buchert to use speaking tubes." Gerhald commented even as he kept a eye on the elven ships.

"No better shot with a smooth bore gun." Adalhelm answered. "Rifled cannons make him almost a god with them. Still your right." Adelhelm said. "Battles

The elven vessels continued to close, aiming to board the _Titan _simultaneously from either side. On the gun deck, a senior Lieutenant pulled a cord to signal that both batteries were loaded and ready to fire once more. Up on the bridge, a bell rang to convey this to the Admiral. Captain Gerhard, eager to finish the fight quickly, spoke up.

"Should I give the order to fire as soon as the guns bear, sir?" he asked.

"No" said Adalhelm, a cold smile on his face. "I want to see how they fare against the Gattling's first." He eyed the three man crews with a hint of pride.

There were four gattlings on the ship, two fore, two aft one on each side.

Each gun was polished till the brass and steel gleamed in the sun like there were made of moten metal. The guns sat on a pintle mount on the decking and were training like weather vains onto the onrushing elven ships.

At that moment, Buchert gave the order to fire, and the two bow-mounted Gatling guns opened fire with a harsh clanking roar, spraying hundreds of rounds into the approaching ships. Like Dragons flame spat in one contuious wave of heat and gunsmoke.

Within moments, the decks of both the _Dawn Racer _and _Wind Challenger _became charnel houses, as elven warriors were scythed down in their dozens by the storm of heavy rounds. Deck-mounted bolt throwers on the elven ships began to fire, but their sleek projectiles bounced harmlessly from the armored sides of the _Titan_.

Lying prone on the deck of the _Dawn Racer_, Alltha screamed the order to pull away in desperation. All around him, the deck was thick with dead and dying sailors, but enough still lived to obey his command. Slowly, the ship began to turn away, as more of the hellish weapons opened up from the stern of the Imperial ship.

Tacking hard against the wind, the _Dawn Racer _crawled out of range, its battered crew powerless to do anything but watch as their sister ship, unwilling or unable to retreat, fought a hopeless battle against a vastly superior foe. Within a few seconds, the sawing lines of fire from the Gatlings had shredded the _Wind Challenger_'s rigging, and blood poured from the scuppers as shot after shot found a home in elven flesh.

To the credit of its surviving crew, of the _Wind Challenger_ fought on, bolt throwers pounding uselessly at the enemy before being torn from their mountings by the unrelenting gunfire. In the end, there were none left aboard who could mount any resistance, and the ship lay silent, entirely at the mercy of the Imperial ship.

Admiral Adalhelm watched with grim satisfaction as the Gatling guns tore into the enemy, forcing one ship to limp away with many of its crew slain, before focusing on the remaining foe. Thousands of rounds had torn the crew into bloody ribbons, and the battered vessel lay powerless before the _Titan_.

Dispatching a runner to Master Gunner Buchert with orders to finish the vessel with a broadside, Adalhelm reproached himself inwardly for letting the other ship escape. This meant that the Elves would be warned of the Imperial incursion, and they would be sure to retaliate. Still, a price to pay for sacficeing the better command position for a better viewing on. Perhapes even a fatel error? He doubted it but, still it nawed on him.

Turning to his crew, he saluted.  
"Well done, gentlemen. This is just the beginning, but already we have seen that the Elves are no match for us at sea. Now, fish one of those bastard leaf ears out of the sea. I have some... questions that I would have answered." Flag-Captain Gerhard chuckled nastily at this, and left to see to it personally.

There was a last roar from the port battery, and Adalhelm turned in time to see the crippled elven ship explode in a flurry of splinters as the _Titan_'s guns turned it into burning matchwood.

Smoke belching from its funnels, the _Titan _turned, and serenely made its way back to the main Imperial fleet to report upon the engagement.

Several miles away, the _Dawn Racer _limped slowly away from the burning wreckage of its sister ships, crawling under the small square of canvas hoisted on the only spar left intact. The Dawn Racer had been formed with love and pride, a eager wolf formed to hunt.

Now it was now longer a eager wolf, but something starved and almost dead on the side of the road.

The masts had been shattered, the hull riddle with bullet holes with whole timbers shot out of place. Many of the splintered holes now resembled nothing so much as the gaping jaws of monsters running with blood from there wooden teeth.

Though out the ship the living tended to the wounded, the dead were respectfully put to one side to focus all the energies on the living. Passing like a blood stained ghost among the crew was the captain of once proud floating morgue, Alltha.

He did what little one person could do to each wounded he met, though few spoke to him. He managed to work his way to the stern of the ship, his eyes picking up the shrinking pin pricks of light as the fires burn themselves out on the slowly sinking wreckage of the _Wind Challenger_.

He turned west, the land of the setting sun, toward Ulthuan. A sudden premonition of Ulthuan in flames seized him, he could smell the smoke and soot in the air, he could see the sky stained with black smoke, and he would hear forever etched on his soul, the clank roar of the hell spiting abominations, the Empire Gatling guns, the weapons, that killed honor.

But more was at stake then any mortal nation. For over ten thousand years the predations of chaos had been kept at bay only by the strength of elven spear arms.

Was the empire ready to bear the same burden? Could they even hope to have the force of character to safe guard the world?

Like the Sea Walker her self, these thoughts burned in his head slowly winking out as more pressing matter over flowed them.

A smudge of black on the distant Horizon drew his eye, and a touch of fear filled his heart. He trained his telescope on the distant horizon. His bowels turned to ice as he saw the smudge, was truly a huge cloud of black smoke gathering there, heralding the coming of an enormous enemy fleet, each vessel as mighty as the one he had just encountered.

"Sir? What do you see?" Alltha turned to face the speaker, a once proud member of the sea guard, who would likely lose his left arm given the placing of the bullet hole in his limb.

"This is just the start." He said softly, before he looked at his remaining crew, and said then in a hollow voice the words that seemed to mark the beginning of the end of his people.

"The Empire means to invade Ulthuan."

* * *

**_IT has come_**

**_those who know me may recall me complaining about a massive project that was takeing up all my time._**

**_this is it_**

**_12 years of war is my first EVERY fan fic and those who go to Heresy online may recall seeing the insanly crappy first version posted there. _**

**_I may have done work on other storys but I always held out a light for this one. The first. and in terms of plot and scale, the largest. Now I have returned to it. And I will not stop this time._**

**_I have a back log set up so expect a chapter a week for at least six weeks after that who knows. _**


	4. Retalation

_"To fight a war, is not a simple task, nor one to be undertaken lightly. Wars are complicated afairswith many different elements that must work together in order for a sure victory to come to one side or the other. The elves were battle hardened and drilled, but the question at this early point, was the Empire ready?"_

* * *

It was night, as the Dawn Racer pulled into one of the many inlets and bays along the coast of Ulthuan.

She bore the wounds of the Empire with a sort of morbid pride. Bullet holes gaped like toothed maws and splinters dug into the feet of any who dared walk with out boots across the top deck. Water gushed from the bilges, like a kind of naval bile, as pumps works as hard as they could to drive the ocean out of there hulls.

The elves in the fast ship scanned the shore, searching for any sign of the watchers among the trees and hill's.

Then, a sign. From a tower hidden among the trees, a lantern flashed a coded message.

"_Where does the dragon roost?"_ a message, that if they responded wrong they would be riddled with Eagle bolts. Across the ship the Sea Guard marines felt the subtle clicking across the napes of there necks as bolt throwers lined upon them, and take aim.

Alltha, standing on the forecastle extended his hand, and a lantern was placed into it.

He held the lantern up and began opened and closed a plate blocking and unblocking the light to signal back the proper response. "_Atop the tallest peaks, among the thickest wood, where ever it pleases him to stay."_

Subtly the bolt throwers relaxed, the response had been the proper one, then a second message was signaled back across the dark gulf between them.

"_Report."_

Alltha quickly worked the plate as rapidly as he could and still deliver a coherent message. _"Dawn racer of Naval patrol Talon eight, attacked at 4 o clock yesterday afternoon. Hostile vessel: one Empire Cruiser. Fire belly, 20 cannons, Casualty: two cruisers, Sea Walker, and Wind Challenger. No damage inflected. Hostile fleet spotted, exact barring unknown, general barring known. A fleet is making for Ulthuan." _After a moment he signaled, almost as a after thought, "_War, is coming to Ulthuan."_

There was no reply.

Then, blinks of light in the distances drew Alltha's eye. The code for tower to tower communication was different from the one for ship to ship communication, which he did know, so he could not understand the message was untranslated to him.

But judging by the rapid flickers the message was be quickly though out the whole tower net work.

Alltha closed his eyes as he imagined what was happening.

All across Ulthuan, riders from out posts all along the net work, would ride out to every town and village, in there path, crying the news of the impending war.

In every town and village that got the news, the Militia would be called archers would string bows, spear men would don there armor and shin there shields and in the early morning mist they would march to meet the foe.

Tonight they had went to bed civilians, and tomorrow, they would wake up soldiers.

"Order captain." S Lowly his eyes peeled open. His introspection of the wider world was over, and now he had to get what men that he still commanded to safety.

"Make what sail we can to Lothen, we're in no shape for a battle now.

* * *

It was late, and Adalhelm held back a yawn as he planed tomorrows naval action. They had to secure the sea around the landing zone, before they could land troops.

On top of tomorrow's battle, he had supply lines to form, outposts to plan, blockades to place, and more!

Let Field Marshal Ludwik von Warenhari keep his infantry, this war would be won at sea, as only be sea could the endless stream of supply's be kept moving to keep the army rolling.

The map in front of him was covered in symbols, vectors of likely attack and positions of his ships.

So far the only contact had been between three man patrol ships and those had been one sided affairs. So far he had placed his destroyers as a picket line about 4 kilometers out from the main task force.

The problem was these island offered countless ambush zones. Though even if they came three on one his ships should be able to hold themselves. But if they got close there swords men were going to cut his crew to ribbons.

So he had to screen the islands before he advanced, secure islands to be used as fortified support zones to create a open safe channel that no ship could pass, less it would get blown apart by the emplacements cannons.

And to do THAT he need tons of nails, boards, men, horses, gun powder, and Sigmar knows what else! Heck! Field Marshal Ludwik first task would likely be help him establish bases across the Shifting isles to do just that.

Once they had secured some islands they could use them to make island hop from point to point allowing them to safely transport war supply though there zone of control, then they could see to the Island proper.

Hopefully they could find resources in the islands to make that job easier and get some forward arms production.

And once he had some dry docks near the front they could really begin to hammer the elven navy, even in the home part of Lothern. He had heard quite wonderful tales of that place. _No man should die with out have set foot there._ The guide books had claimed. He enjoyed the prospect of partaking of the city's wonders. Stress on the word, **taking**..

But that was all another day, right now dreams were sound and fury signifying nothing. Today, or rather tomorrow they had to fight a battle with the elven navy to enable future glory.

He expected a twin prong attack from Lothern to the west, and Yvresse to the north. Well he was ready for that attack. His force would split up and face them both down at once.

A risk he knew. But a risk he thought he could handle, given how his ships had performed.

So to recap, he had to fight off a two prong attack from the strongest navy on the planet, with a untried, (though very promising) fleet, then build a chain of forts across a island chain to secure a channel, then perform a amphibious assault on the island were no man has set foot on before, in the face of the most skilled army on the planet, then fight for well over five thousand square miles of hostile territory.

And all this on top of having to attack elven out posts across the whole planet!

Well at least THAT was not his problem. Other Admirals would have the honor of overseeing that slash and burn operation.

Adalhelm rubbed his eyes as he tried to figure all this out. Two things were clear though.

One: he was feeling older then he truly was.

Two: this was a war like nothing any human had ever seen before. New weapons, new tactics, new strategic concerned, new foes. All of it untested and new.

Of these things together, one thing was clear. There would be blood

A knock on the door to his cabin drew his attention. At a nod to his marine guards on his side of the door the men opened the door and reveling one of the ships Powder monkey's, slash, cabin boys, slash speaking tube operators. (Talking Monkeys)

He saluted. "Message from Brig Sir!"

"Understood Boy, what is it?"

"Sir: Brig wishes to report that the Knife ear,"

"Who?" Adalhelm asked confused.

"Knife ear," the boy shrugged. "The brig called the prisoner that."

Adalhelm thought about that. Pointy ears, like knifes. It was quite nice really. He made a note of that.

"Well, continue boy." Adalhelm said.

"Yes sir: Brig Wishes to report the Knife Ear is still not answer questioning. They request permission to enhance the interrogation of the subject."

"Fancy word for torture that." Adalhelm mused. "Tell them I don't expect results but he has permission to try. You never know it may pay off. Dismissed."

"Sir." the cabin boy saluted and ran off to the speaking tube hub to deliver the message.

"Knife ear." Adalhelm mused to him self, nearly alone, save the Marines who guarded him. "I quite like it."

* * *

Deep in the heart of tower of Hoeth, birth place of organized magic in both Ulthuan and the Empire, a group of mages worked there art.

Focusing, they twisted and altered the winds of magic as a man would use a prism to twist light useing it to extend there sight.

The Isles were a tremendously large location and one of the few places Ulthuan was vunrable to invasion. trying to patrol it with ships was a massive investment for the limited elven navy.

It was only by magic there were able to find there enemys of Ulthuan, and this day they found them again.

The bulk of the rested around the Island of _Cassador, _though they had placed pickets far from the main fleet to find hostile ships and prevent them from being ambushed.

Once more, they found the enemy was digging in. The islands were only sparsely populated so what commanders they had in the area had fled rather then fight, and more then one elven noble had seen the 300 pound defensive naval guns guarding Nordland when diplomatic ties were better. Even they knew a Dragon-ship could not stand that kind of cannons for long.

They had to throw the humans out before they were fully dug in, and near impervious to an assault.

* * *

The next day, found the Titan rolling lightly under Adalhelm feet as he observed the first island fort being raised.

Longboats moved from ship to shore each loaded with men, supply's and tools to create the emplacement that would protect there shipping.

For now, it was bunch of earth works, with a combination of cannons and 'moot guns', which were just logs painted black to look like cannons, over watching a straight between islands.

But even as he watched the primitive fortification creep upward, he saw not the earth works, but the brick fortifications and walls of gleaming white that were to come.

He smiled at the image of what was but not there, yet.

It would take years before the chain of island forts were fully constructed, but when it was.

Well, it would be a load off his ships when they started patroling, instead of just guarding this one island and they would be free to take the naval fight to Ulthuan her self.

Thankfully most of the islands were wooded so fuel would not be a problem, for now.

Above him, nestled in the crow's nest, the look out watched the horizon as the mast swung gently, but far more widly then the deck far bellow.

A telescope scanned the horizon as the man kept a consent look out. Because the Titan sat on the edge of the fleet they would be the first to see the signs of a enemy fleet.

Then he saw a red glint on the horizen. He focused the telescope on it until he knew what it was.

He moved quickly to the speaking tube set along side the mast.

"Crow's nest to Communication." it took about a few seconds for the sound to reach the communication office, set with in the bridge.

The disciplined voice of the talking monkey at the other end of the speaking tube came though.

"Communication speaking. Petty Officer 2nd class Burkhard reporting. Go ahead Crow's nest."

"Warning red warning rocket spotted off the starboard side." the red rocket signified that one of the pickets had made contact with the enemy and was a falling back to the main fleet.

"Understood Nest: standby." before the sound had even reached him steam was redirected to a whistle which then began it's baritone scream of warning.

As warning whistle howled crew stopped being idle and charged to there posts. Cannons were rapidly loaded, water lifted in buckets out of the sea to fight fires, fire arms handed out and more were done to ready for the fight

Adalhelm though gave a grim smile before spitting over the side for good luck. the game was afoot. He made his way to the bridge to command the fighting.

He pushed past a man with a arm full of muskets that were being passed out among the crew, made his way up the ships supper structure till he reached the bridge.

The bridge was lightly filled with officers. Normally only the captain, the helmsmen and the talking monkey manning the communication array. The bridge also allowed a excellent view of the ship and the surrounding area allowing the captain to make tactical choices, which could be sent though out the ship via the speaking tube.

Adalhelm watched as the talking monkey relayed the captains orders across the ship, rattling off orders to different departments off a sheet of paper.

"Admiral!" Flag-Captain Gerhard. said saluting along with the helmsmen Erhard.

"I've see you got the ship ready with out me." Adalhelm joked.

"any additional information from the pickets?"

"Sir." the talking monkey interrupted. "Crow's nest reports he spotted three red rockets air born at the same time." a triple red rocket lunch meant the ship was likely going to be taken or sunk.

"Damn it, thank you," Adalhelm asked.

"Petty Officer 2nd class Burkhard Sir!" the boy said teeth gleaming in a smile under his emerald green eyes. He then went back to work manning the communications.

"Good man him." captain Gerhard joked. "I don't look forward to replaceing him once he gets proper sized."

"Indeed." Adalhelm said. For his part he recognized the boy as the one who gave him the messge from the brig last night. "But that's for another day we must earn. Has a warning rocket been fired to the rest of the fleet?"

"There having problems with a faulty fuse on the red warning rocket that was preloaded." Burkhard interrupted. "They were replacing it last I heard. Should I ask again?" the loud whistle of a rocket screening upward followed by the muffled poomf as it exploded above there heads.

"That must have been it." Clemens commented.

"umm, no sir." Burkhard commented. "Crow's nest reports the SMS Kressel fired a red rocket." the Kressel was on the opposite of the formation. They had to have seen there own warning rocket. The twin prong assault was confirmed.

A second whistle, scream, then explosion echoed.

"That was ours sir." Burkhard answered the unspoken question.

"At this rate I'd make him a helmsmen." Adalhelm said impressed.

"No good. He want's to join the marines."

"Immer Zuverlässig!" Burkhard called loudly. The other two men chuckled.

Burkhard then turned in his chair to face the two superior officers behind him. "umm, sir why are we just, chatting with a elven fleet coming at us?" he nervously asked.

"Even for the elves it will take a fair bit of time take time to get close to us from how far are pickets were out." Adalhelm explained. "The elves don't want us here, but we want to be here. So we may as well form into are battle lines and let them batter themselves upon us. Additional the fortification, meager they may be at this point do provide us a degree of advantage, or at least they may think that."

"Thank you sir." Burkhard said a bit quickly. turning back to the communication tubes, he paused and turned bac "but, what happends to the picket?" the seniour officers traded looks.

"Generally son" Adelhem said somberly "The destroyers are fast enough to escape. But elven ship's are far faster then even are steam powered vessels. So, the ship is likely doomed."

Burkhard paled.

* * *

The Combatant class destroyer Xander flanks rippled with another volley of gun fire splattering the elven Eagle ships to each side with cannon fire as it flared it boilers to escape send plumes of black wood smoke skyward.

The explosive shot sent splinters of burning wood flying upward as in lazy arcs as it exploded among the hull of the Eagle ships.

Bolt throwers twanged and strummed in reply, the bolts throwers penetrating the thinner armor on the Destroyer and doing, but doing little damage to the structure underneath, the metal plating robbing the bolts of much of there energy. But they dotted the side of the ship like a reverse porcupine as the point stuck from the sides, pointy end in.

From armored casements along the upper deck Gattling guns spat lead into the elven ships to both sides, each ship trying to board the ship.

Along the deck musketeers traded volleys with elven long bowmen that dared show there heads above the volley of gatling gun fire to fire back.

The destroyer suddenly unfurled it sails seeking to escape the fleet the was just behind it.

The fleet of almost 30 elven Warships, were gaining on it. The eagle ship to each side were the ones that had put on sail as soon as they saw the ship, there goal, was to sink it, the other were holding back, saving there strength.

At the lead of the fleet was a titan of the water, a Elven Dragon-ship, the prow gleaming silver as the dragon blade slice though the waves before it, as easily as it would the ironclad if it caught up to it.

Qulm put his telescope down as he watched three Eagle ships fail to bring a single human Cruiser down. One of the lightest ship in there fleet hold off three of the elite of Ulthuan

His noble face quenched into a snarl of disgust as another blast of cannon fire rippled across the sides.

"It seems the reports about the power of the human navy was not incorrect." he drawled lazily at his at one of his fellow noblemen who stood nearby.

"So it seems my lord."

"Put on more sail, let them face our wrath.

Qulm put the spy glass back to his eyes to observe the fight some more.

He spoke to the noble beside him. "Something I do not know. That it is a steam ship," he a true noble would not reduce himself to call it by the improper name the sea guard dismissively call steam ships. "Yet is had no paddles. So how does it move?"

"I am unsure my lord." The other noble said.

Then a lucky shot.

A bolt impacted the Xander aft penetrating slightly as normal, but penetrating and hitting a steam pipe, and under all the pressure the boiler was running at, the pipe burst.

Broiling hot steam was sprayed at high pressure across engineering, more then one engineer was flash cooked by the heat of the steam . Like a evil hungry thing the cloud roared down hall ways and into rooms. Filling the whole of engineering with steam before the valve was shut.

Though not all of the steam was lethal as it had cooled some what when as it filled engineering.

The Xander slowed rapidly as its engines lost power and it quickly slowed to the pace only it sail's could give it.

Steam rolled out of every gap and whole in the ship obstructing views and sending the deck into confusion.

For a few seconds the Gatling guns cease fire in confusion, but they rapidly resumed firing, this time powered by desperation, they had to hold them off!

Again the cannons unleashed another salvo, and this time an Eagle-ship shuddered as the it finally took enough damage and begun to slowly sink, bolt throwers responding to the last.

But the elven fleet was close behind, and closing, very, very fast. The Xander was dead in the water, unable to move, all it could do was fight.

Cannons kept spitting shells and the two remaining Eagle ships finally had enough and each split apart,,, because Qulm had his Dragonship, the Star Runner, unfurl it's full sail and speed forward, wind billowing it forward to great speed, Dragon-blades gleaming.

Frantic the captain tried to, if not run, then to turn so they could get a shot off at the onrushing giant, and in his defense with some wind power they manged to turn to put there cannons face the new threat, but there guns were not loaded, have expended themselves on the Eagle ship.

Dragon-blades gleaming like the twin points of etnernty, the Star Runner impacted the back of the Xander, and kept moving.

Wood splintering and cracking the Dragon-ship sliced though wood with ease, and split the Xander in twain. Water rushed into the now halved ship and each half sunk rapidly, then the cold sea water hit the hot boiler.

In a thunderous explosion of wood, steel boiler fragments and steam, the ocean roared upward in a pillar of boiling water.

The Star Runner was unharmed. The steam explosion unable to harm the Iron hard hull of the Qulm after breaking through the wooden hall around it.

"Now, if we may continue." the noble said arrogance leaking out of his every word.


	5. Cassador

_"The battle of Cassador ( a Small island in the shifting Isles) was the first of many battle where human technology and innovation met eleven magic and tradition, and won thus setting a trend the war would follow for the next five years"."_

* * *

"Admiral!" Burkhard called in response to a message from the crow's nest. "He says elven ship approaching from the west, and there approaching fast sir, very fast. He also reports he thinks he saw an explosion of some kind."

"That must have been the picket ship." Gerhard mused.

"Sad, they lived up to their rockets. I hope they died well." Adelhelm said somberly. Removing his hat for a second he spared a moment of thought for those poor souls. Then he focused on the battle at hand. "So it truly begins. I presume our broad side is facing the hostile ships?" he said while jamming the hat back on his head.

"Indeed sir. The other ships have as well. Are fellows to the east have done the same to meet their fleet." Gerhard answered.

"Any idea when those Gunboats are supposed to get here?" Adelhelm asked.

"Negative sir. They were suppose to get here yesterday but they did not show up." anything could have happened to them. Sunk, ambushed, engine issues, they could only hope it was something good.

"Well, with Sigmar's blessings there hopefully get here in time to aid us." Adelhelm said with a sigh.

"Sir: look out says at least 18 ships!" Burkhard called in a slight panic.

Silence formed in the room as both captain and Admiral considered that then, they only had 26 cruisers, 13 east, 13 west, and they were under a two prong attack. They were likely well out numbered.

Burkhard spoke up. "Sir: do we enough cannon balls for that many ships?" the two officers looked at each other.

"I hope those Gunboats get here in time." Adelhelm said silently pleading to Sigmar to deliver him his ships.

SHIFT

The elven ships seemed to race the wind themselves as the western force, the one with the wind to its back, charged forward. When they were in range the Empire cannons roared a spray of chain shot and at 11:35 on the 22 day of Pflugzeit the first naval battle for Ulthuan began.

Each cannon ball slid apart in mid-air into two halves, connected by six feet of chain. Spinning around the center point the barrage of chain slot blew sails apart, shattered masts slowing the ships down, forming obstructions for the next wave of ships.

A few minutes later a second volley of cannon balls rang out, this one a volley of High explosive shot. The shells blew low into the elven navy and hulls were blown apart in showers of splinters. But one volley was not enough to bring elven ships down, and bolt hummed and sang though the air in response. But the range was far and the bolts could only slide with an out a splash into the water against the empire rifled cannons.

Cannon fire rang in sharp response to the delicate attack as they thundered back sending plumes of hot smoke rolling off the flanks of the ships like clouds, and those same clouds rose, with gouts of flame and hail of iron, among the elven ships where the shells detonated.

Sailing hard the elven ships found themselves in a log jam of wooden hulls the human had created by shredding ship sails and hulls in equal order sending shells up and down to stop the fleet, to make it an easy target for their cannons.

Gatling guns fired bullets into the navy, at the long-range the bullets may have missed most of the time, but they fired to keep heads down and off the rigging, and to shred the rigging and keep them from moving, to keep the ships bunched up as targets the gunners aboard the ships..

East, and west this happened, the elven navy fell upon the heavy armor of the Iron Clads and little damage was inflicted for all their effort.

Until it happened.

"Admiral!" Burkhard screamed to be heard over the thunder of cannons and the clanking bellow of gatling.

"Hostile fleet to are south! They hid their flanking force by going behind an Island! Look out says it's being lead by a ship at the front! He says it looks like a Dragon ship!"

"Send warning rockets up!" Adalhelm called. "I want every ship to know that fleet is coming! Then fire up our boilers to combat pressures!"

Green rockets roared skyward, saying to all the world "look around something is not right" And each ship in turn found the approaching southern fleet.

The Titan's paddles slowly spun up as it pivoted to bring a broad side to the new threat, leaving the old threat with one less broadside to face.

Once more the line formation they were in meant only the extreme of the flanks could turn to face the threat And once the battle line had broken down the risk of being boarded suddenly grew to become an incredible threat.

But luck shined down upon the Empire.

"Sir look outs reports gunfire! South! The gunboats are here! They're engaging the force to the south!" Burkhard called loudly

"Bout time." Gerheard said in a relieved tone while wiping sweat from his brow.

Gunboats were officially called the Griffon class and they were a most uncommon type of ship.

griffon were a special type of Iron clad. They had most of their hull under water and only the sloped sides of the top Casement emerged above it. Often called a cheese box on a raft based on its appearance, and the fact it floated about as well as one. In the open ocean they tended to roll horribly, explaining why they were so slow to arrive. But in the shallow water within the Shifting Isles they were ideal.

With six cannons on each side, and three projecting out the front of the ship the Griffon were a monster in combat able to fight from three directions at once.

Unlike the 12 pound long guns the Titan class Cruiser or the Combatant class destroyer used, the Griffon was armed with short, stubby in fact, Cannonade (which were basically sawed off cannons) that fired a 68 pound high explosive shell.

The range was far shorter than the long gun used else were in the Empire, but anything in range was going to be decimated.

Cannons blaring the Gunboats steamed forward toward the elven fleet their attendant Destroyers following their lead. More than a few of the Eagleship had problems lowering their bolt throwers to target the enemy.

Shells impacted the elven ships, and instantly the elves knew there was something else here as the far more intense explosions roared sending small blasts waves of flame roaring as the massive shells exploded among there hulls.

And unlike the cruisers they feared no border, for they were fully incased in metal, there was no were to get in!

Explosions of smoke rolled upward from the heavy-set Ironclad's as elven ships were shattered by cannon fire, bolts impacting and ringing of there thick armor plating defending the crew inside as they worked the guns.

Recoil slammed the guns back, which also forced the iron gun ports closed to protect the crew, they then swabbed the barrel, reloaded them then with the flip of a valve a burst of steam from the boiler blew the shutter open again, while also throwing the gun forward out the port and they fired again.

It was quick and lethal reload that kept the guns slamming as fast as they could.

This not to say the surprising flank attack of Gunboats all had it their way.

Sails snapping and tugging at the wind the mighty Dragonship, Star Runner pivoted to face one such vessel and then the wind drove it on hard and true. Even as cannon fire roared and impacted around it the ship it surged forward slicing though the thick armor of a Griffon spitting it in twain.

The strength of the wind forced it forward, cleaving into another iron clad, and clipping another. Both sunk, and both ended up exploding when the cold water hit their boilers sending climatic pillars of wooden shards, steel plates, popped rivets and body's skyward.

But the moment of the ship took it out of the safety of the formation, one ship, the Sterngaurd vessel had yet to engage and now it had a bead on the great Dragon ship.

The Destroyer Reckoning.

* * *

"Sigmar damn it!" Captain Engelbert cursed as the massive warship seemed to be turning toward them, there was no way his Destroyer could fight a Dragonship head on and live though the experience.

But when the ship kept turning his heart rose. It had not been facing them, it was pivoting to slam into a second gunboat. They could do more then live though the fight now. But they did not have a lot of time. He shouted behind him to his talking monkey manning the speaking tube. "I want all power to the engines, push them to red if you have to but we have to go fast! Then tell gunnery to prep the Torpedo tubes I want them ready to fire NOW!"

Like a hungry tiger the Reckoning surged forward, but it was a hungry tiger that had decided to pick a fight with a bull elephant. It was out sized three to one, and out weighed almost five to one.

Qulm cast a lazy eye over the destroyer and in less than a second dismissed it as a threat focusing instead on the heavy Ironclads that were shredding his fleet.

Still it was approaching fast. "perhaps they mean to ram us?" Qulm scoffed aloud to himself as the ship approached.

Aboard the Reckoning though the front gun covers slide open reveling a thin slit in the armor and three heavy, long brass cannons were rolled forward and locked into position.

The gunnery officer moved to a speaking tube. "Torpedoes ready sir!"

"Good! Fire when only when ordered, not a moment before!" the response came back fast and true a second latter.

"Yes sir!" the officer said back. He cast a eye over the Torpedoes.

Powered by compressed air the torpedoes had a significant range of 910 meters, went below the water line, and carried a 50 kg gun-cotton warhead. That Dragonship may as well have been a towed target for them.

The Star Runner, was not so accommodating.

From the side of the ship a hail of heavy bolts were slung out impacting the front of the ship. The thinner bow armor let bolts penetrate and a sudden flurry of shafts half dug themselves into the front plating, and for a almost 2 meter long bolt, that was a full meter embedded into the ships armor.

More then one crew was speared by the sudden flight of bolts into the ship, and at least one man had his throat sliced by a unlucky bolt impact.

But that was no consequence! The Dragon Ship was turning away! But the wind was against them, so it was taking, so it was takeing longer then it should, they had to get the them before the ship escaped.

Captain Engelbert called to his communication boy, "Tell gunnery they are free to fire at will, repeat they may fire at will!"

In gunnery itself the commanding officer had been pinned by an eagle bolt that penetrated all the way though the armor plating and pinned him to the back wall and no one was manning the speaking tube, so they missed the order.

The torpedoes rested in there tube, instead of firing and the distance kept closing between the destroyer and the Dragonship.

Qulm scoffed. "Arrogant little fool." he said to any noble around who listened to the great Dragon Ship captain. "All hands: hold position!" he ordered the command sending expert swinging among the rigging. "Prepare to repel boarders! If they wish to board us, they let them face Elven steel!" he drew his own sword and rapidly unslung his shield.

* * *

"I need those torpedoes now!" Captain Engelbert shouted in more then a touch of panic. The battlefield was filling with harsh gun smoke, and the gunboats were getting harder to see though the thick clouds. Flashes every now and then showed their location and their impacts showed the enemy.

"What is going on down there!" Engelbert cried as the ship rapidly closed, too rapidly with the far mightier dragon ship. They would have to turn soon, or they would crash into it.

And those bolt throwers were doing his crew no favor! Penetrating thin frontal plates and ripping among the marines gathered on the deck where they began to trade volleys with long bowmen upon the deck! They were that close!

"Gunnery respond: Respond gunnery!" the Talking monkey started to say into the tubes, but he was was cut off when Engelbert himself pushed him aside and yelled into the tube, voice infused with panicked energy "Sigmar damn you!Fire the Torpedoes!"

Rattling down the sound tube, reverberating and ringing down meters of brass tubing inlayed with sound absorbing material. It reached the flared mouth of the torpedo room speaking tube and rang loud enough to be heard by the transfixed gunnery captain,

He called out to the remaining torpedo crew. "What are you waiting for!" blood bubbling and leaking form the corners of his mouth. "Fire the goddamn torpedoes!"

Wounded hands rapidly clenched strings and pulled setting the gunlocks off.

The front of the Reckoning exploded in thin plumes of gun smoke as the cannons used just enough powder to get the torepdeos out the barrels, they then moved under there own power.

"Helmsmen! Hard to port!" Engelbert shouted. "Load Starbord guns! Either they hit or they don't, but either way we have to put some shells in that battle ship!" the Helmsmen in the same room slammed the wheel to one side and the ship shuddered as it rapidly swung to port.

SHIFT

Qulm saw the thin plumes of gun smoke from the front of the ship, for a second he saw a copper flash as something fell into the water. He gave a ironic laugh at the miss.

"They can't even shoot straight!"

The ship rapidly swung port, tilting at almost a 25 degree angle as it swung around. Along the whole flank of the ship cannons rolled out, gatlings were loaded and riflemen stood ready.

"Hrump, so they have sense if not courage." Qulm said sheathing his sword.

The torpedoes were fired at such close range they impacted rapidly.

Explosions from beneath the water line shook the hull of the great dragon ship, rocking it half out of of the water before it crashed back down sporting massive gaps bellow the the water that drunk in great gulps of sea water.

Then the destroyer fired. A broad side of explosive cannon balls racked the crowded deck of the tilting battle ship ripping wooden decking apart, followed by gatling gun fire ripping and snapping across the shattered ruins of wood and splinters.

Qulm had been just about thrown off the ship, only keeping his balance by hanging tightly to one of the railings,the resulting impact of shells sent shrpanel, both wood and iron in nature flying and they rattled off his shield as he hastily ducked behind it.

Gatling bullets pinged and rang louder as they strafing the ship impacting shields and driving Elves to the decking as marines along the sides of the Reckoning began to fire sending blasts of musket balls into the prone targets along the deck.

Cheers rang from the deck as the wounded Dragonship began to list.

Captain Engelbert was not one of them. He knew they had just made themselves a target for every elven ship on the whole embroiled flank.

And things got worse.

"Sir! Look out reports from the east! A second fleet! And there are Three dragon ships in it!" the eastern fleet were also ordered to flank the human fleet. And to make sure the blow fell hardest upon them, they flanked south as well so as to not divide there force overly much.

A good tactic, but when they had made it they were not aware of the heavy gunboats who now guarded the southern flank, and they unaware of the fire power a human warship could split out. None of which served to help Engelbert and the Reckoning.

Damn it! Reverse engines!" he shouted. In response the helmsman threw a heavy switch and the great screw drive shuddered to a stop as the steam engine threw into reverse. Slowly the ship pivoted backwards, turning as it did so. It's prow now begining to face the doomed dragon ship infront of them.

"Gunnery! Fire torpedoes At will!"

* * *

Qulm watched as the, human ship backed away, it flank turning away reveling it's prow to ward the half sunk dragon ship.

Then, a flash of copper and thin plumes of gunsmoke along with small explosions rang from the front of the ship.

"Isha help us." he muttered having learned what was about to happen the last time.

Thundering explosions rang along the side of the ship, carving in new gap for the hungry ocean to rush inward. The dragon ship was doomed.

And now the destroyer threw its engines forward and peeled forward running it flank along the dragon ship, allowing them a parting broad side, as the skirted off to get behind a proper iron clad.

Across the battle the elven ships were shredded by explosive shot and endless volleys of cannon fire. The heavy rounds of the Gunboats wrecked havoc on ships as the Gun Boats fired 64 pound shells at those beside them, and in front of them.

Each impact that landed among the ships detonated shattering hulls, filling the water with debris and bodies.

North of the battle of the gunboats the Elven pinning force was torn asunder.

Lighter, but more numerous 12 pound cannons roared once more filling the air with thick clouds of smoke but the elven eagle ships had, had enough. What few ships that had not had there masts shattered and water gushing into there bilges, begun to fall back.

The forces to the east and west fell back quickly, fleeing away under the clouds of thick gunsmoke. Now there was a third force, even if it was larger then the Empire thought it was.

Adelhelm scanned with his spy glasses, he stopped seeing Explosions a little bit ago, but there was too much smoke to see anything.

"Gunnery Cease fire." he called. Burkhard passed the message on to gunnery and the cannons finaly stopped there lethal fire.

"Sigmar damn this smoke. You thick we could deal with all this damn smoke better then waiting for the wind to blow it away." Adelhelm sharply said. Every one was smart enough to say nothing to that.

To there south the booming cracks of heavy cannons echoed. Burkhard meanwhile started to speak to the crow's nest.

"Sir! Crows nest reports the elven ships have fallen back!" he called to the Admiral behind him.

"Good work! We have those knife eared bastards on the run now!" Adelhelm said in a sudden good humor.

"Now, we need to drive this fleet south. Fire a blue rocket and build the boilers to cruising pressure!" the follow me rocket only issued to fleet commanders.

The rocket was quickly lunched as the great paddles of the Titan begun to spin churning the water forward as other battle ships, began to move after them.

"Now that we have a moment: Burkhard I want all stations to report in." Adelhelm commanded.

The report came back fast.

"All stations report minimal damage."

"Really? We must have been hit at least a thousand times!" Adelhelm said surprised. Some of the Elven ships had gotten close enough to fire there bolt throws and there bolt throwers were not called 'repeating' for no reason.

"Yes sir, deck crews report are port side is covered in dents and bolt. On that subject the deck crews report they expended almost 6,000 rounds of gattling gun bullets, and suffered 40 WIA and 28 KIA." Captain Gerhald gave a long low whistle at that statement.

"Gunnery reports they expended 30% of there explosive ammunition, and 80% of there chain, Canister shot was not used so we have lots of that. They suffered 120 WIA, mostly burns from hot barrels and pinched fingers from getting them in the shutter arrays. KIA 41, all arrows and bolts getting though open shutters. Also gunnery command wishes to express concern about the port side guns all the firing making the barrel worn."

"What about engineering?"

"Fully functional no damage or KIA, 4 WIA but those are hot metal burns."

Silence met Burkhard report. "How many do you think we got?" Gerhald said softly.

Adelhelm lifted his hand to his head in thought. "Sigmar all mighty,I had the wrong group of worries..."

"Sir?" Gerhald said concerned.

"I was worried about damage to our ships when I should have worried about ammunition." as long as gatling guns can shred a ships rigging, and keep crews down high explosive shot WILL destroy the ship. The only issue was keeping the gatlings up with ammo. Solve that problem and you had victory.

But they had yet to solve the problem.

"Seems smoke is more troubling than the enemy." Clemens joked.

"Indeed." Adelhelm said, then the starboard side of the ship shuddered as batteries of bolt thrower twanged sharply and sent bolts forth to impact with the iron armor.

"And so it begins again." Adelhelm said. "Fire at will."

The barrage of 12 pound cannon balls shattered upon the new elven ships seemingly seconds before the Titan muzzle flashes lit up like hell fire from within the thick fog bank of smoke.

* * *

Meanwhile the Destroy Reckoning was in the thick of the fight along side a heavy gunboat with an odd flag as it fired it's cannons into elven ships to either side and the slight puff of steam that preempted a torpedo attack had became greatly feared and more then five eagle ships had been cracked in half by a single impact.

And that made the Reckoning a target for vengeful elven crews.

Captain Engelbert cursed violently. Destroyers were not as well armored as Cruisers and they were taking water from impacts at the water line, no risk of sinking since they were now diverting steam for the water pumps. So they were now slower, and a wrong blow to the boiler room would find the boiler running at pressure that would make a leak dangerous.

"Sir! A dragon ship is pointing toward us!" he's talking monkey reported from the crows nest.

"Well turn to face it! We'll crack the bastard in half!" Engelbert said trying to sound more cheerful then he actually was, the steam engine chugging as the ship came about to a new heading to face the onrushing dragon ship.

"Torpedoes: fire at will!" he commanded

The front of the ship lit in three small explosions as the Torpedoes exited the ship and splashed into the water. The great dragon ship did not change course, it twin catmerian hulls still bearing gleaming dragon blade onrushing forward.

Like dolphins the Torpedos rushed forward just bellow the surface, a trail of bubbles arcing up behind them.

A few moments latter the torpdeos reached the dragon ship, and kept going, passing between the great ships twin hulls doing no damage at all! The Torpedoes kept going until they hit there max range and ran out of propellent, though one did impacted a Eagle ship behind the dargon, lodging into the hull and failing to go off thanks to a faulty detonator.

All of which did not help the Reckoning.

It is a funny thing watching elation turn instantly to gibbering terror. Funny to watch, when the face is not your own and not right next to you.

"O Sigmar!" Engelbert screamed, no time to get a second shot off, and turning to broad side would not help against those blades!

"All hand: brace for impact!" a steam whistle screamed the command and the crew did that, bracing as the great Dragonship smashed into the Destroyer.

Iron armor met ensorced metal with the bulk of a wooden dreadnought of the sea behind it. The only saving grace of the Reckoning was it size. It was small enough to fit some what between the Dragons ship's catmerans, the dragonblades dug deep bellow the water line carving into the ship, but not breaking the ship apart. It was still intact.

For a second nothing happened then blood thirsty cries rose from the Dragonship. The elves had closed to boarding and they had a battle worth of lives and ships to avenge.

Leaping over the gap between ships the famed mariners of Ulthuan charged into battle swords swinging and arrows loosed on the fly singing though the air like angry humming birds.

A ragged volley of gun fire from the crew met them in response, muskets roared, bullets whizzed, then they were empty.

In the swinging melee that was the close quarters combat men stabled, got parried, gutted, and got guted in turn. Engelbert stormed out of the bridge, revolver drawn and ready.

A elf charged up the stairs to face him screaming at him, the revolver lowered and blew a hole in his chest. Pulling the hammer back with his thumb he took aim to the melee as he drew his cutlass with his other hand.

"Come on then!" he shouted as he stood into the melee pistol blaring. "Who's next!"

Moments latter, seeing the distress of the iron clad, the Cruiser Titan had pulled along side, paddles churning the water to froth as got into position and raked both Reckoning and the dragon ship with gatling gun fire, and the dragon ship got blasts of cannon fire.

With most of the living humans huddling below deck the Gattlings worked a vicious slaughter upon the elves who tryed to stand and fight.

Those who went below deck found a row of sharpened bayents on the end of a (reloaded) musket waiting for them.

By this time the last elven fleet element yielded and broke.

Winds to their afts they flew fast and escaped from the slower, impenetrable human ships behind.

The battle of Cassador, was over.


	6. fall

_The Empire had held, but at a cost. Another assault of such a scale would finish them. The invasion had yet to begin and yet it was already hanging by the skin of its teeth._

* * *

You can be smart, or you can be lucky.

Today? The empire had gotten lucky.

Lucky that the Dragonships had been taken out of the fight quickly, lucky that the elves ships were as weak to explosive shot as they had been, lucky and Sigmar blessed that the gun boats had arrived when they did to support the flank.

Admiral Adalhelm sat in his command room staring at the ashen and soot stained faces of every captain in the fleet that could be spared from their ships and could fit in the, admittedly large room. They were covered in powder stains, a few had powder burns, a few had wounds suffered during boarding actions. All of them seemed, less. They had set forth full of fire and vigor.

Now, they were just tired men after a hard fight. They had just gone over there ships readness figures and the numbers were not good.

Not overly bad, but not good.

"It seems we significantly underestimated the Elven response time, they arrived far too sooner and in far more force then we thought they would. We were lucky that we did not take more losses than we did, but now we are in a delicate situation."

"Ammo stocks are low, enough for day-to-day work but another big fight will see us run out of gatling ammo. There shall be no live fire drilling."

"As you know we have gotten resupplied today, but that was supposed to go forward to building the first of the island forts. I sent the ships back for more supplys but we need to make, every, shot, count." he looked around the room of officers.

"We need to make sure that every bullet fired, every cannon discharged, every pound of coal burnt for steam power, every ship moved, gets us closer to winning this war. We are in the position of the smaller army trying to conquer a bigger one. We can win by making the big army, much, much smaller, but we can't afford a fuck up at any point. Am I understood?"

Nods and affirmations went around the room. The first contact with the elves had been a humbling experience. They had won, but to be so completely out maneuvered? Had the Gunboats not arrived they could only imagined.

Ratling, Burkhard has your patrols patterns and rocket signals ready for you and sorted by ship. In brief each vessel is to stay to the pattern and fire-red rockets in case of contact, of any scale. However, make sure to read the orders in full" he said before looking around.

"We can't have a screw up. Those of you who were not signaled out before the meeting began, you know who you are, are dismissed." most of the captains left, leaving 12 men. Six of them were particularly soot covered and short of stature. The other six had a more normal level of ash over them.

The difference was, six of them were gunboat captains who had much smaller ships, that were much more powerful, and were fully encased in metal, meaning there ships often end up so full of smoke that the seemed to be letting off steam if you opened a hatch after a cannonade.

The other six were destroyer captains that had shown themselves in the fight.

In order:

Captain Falk of the Pride of Nuln.

Captain Dietrich of the Punisher

Malik of the Crusher.

Johnson of the Warrior.

Brunson of the Strider

And Captain Engelbert former captain of the Reckoning but that ship was still stuck to the Dragonships twin blades. _"like a pinned butterfly"_ He had artfully said before the meeting began. There were now trying to see if they could save her by ransacking her of all its ammo, cannons, food, any timber they could take out.

But things were not looking good given the size of those gaps in the hull.

In the mean time he had been put in command of the Destroyer Ember whose captain had been shot off the bridge by a lucky, or unlucky depending on your point of view, bolt thrower, bolt.

He had the unprecedented kill number of two Dragonships to his name (though Gerhard quibbled that the second dragon should only half count since the Titan had to help), and he was the only Empire officer who had managed to capture a Dragon ship

Additionally, of the nine captains he was the most battered, sporting many half healed cuts to his arms and chest a long puncture wound still sported a bloody bandage.

"Gentlemen I have a mission for you." He unrolled a map displaying Ulthuan. "Forward scouts, (who shall remain nameless) have observed the Elven fleet falling back, some toward Albreth cove, but most of the fleet is falling back to Lothern. Estimates of their total fleet strength of the elves in Lothern alone run in the 90's." he looked at the nine fleet captains in front of him.

"Obviously we can't win against that many in a head to head fight with are current ammo stores, therefore discretion will be the better part of valor."

"To this end we have some new toys being put together to stop the elves. They should be here in a week."

"What new "toys?" Falk asked. "A new torpedo?"

"In a sense. Static torpedos, we plan to seed the Lothern strait with them. Are scout promise's the mines will stop the elves in their track as they try to figure a way to clear them with out blowing ships up."

"Sounds good, but we don't have them yet."

"actually, we do." Adalhelm the crass gunboat captain. "We brought someto seed around the island chain as part of the plan to create a safe corridor for are merchant fleet. additional we're not only getting more mines, but better ones. Again, sources shall not be mentioned by name. We will also start getting the 300 pounder anti-naval guns by that time. That and are first resupply should be here tomorrow morning." And first group of mages from the Collage of magic would be with them as well.

"Sounds, good sir. But what do you want us to do?" Captain Engelbert ask nervously.

"We can start laying the mines to pin the fleet in place, the merchant ships will be protected by your destroyers, supported by the Titan, " Adalhelm said slightly off-hand. "When the Elves come out of their great fortress city to stop us we will nail them with torpedo and cannon fire."

"So, why do you need us?" One captain, Mack of the Gunboat Marrow, if Adalhelm remembered right spoke up. "Sounds like all you need are Destroyers and Crusiers."

"There is...a complication." Adalhelm admitted sliding a map across the table. It was far more detailed one then the ones the men had been previously briefed with as was outlying the basic lay out of the was because this one had been stolen from the ruins of an elven vessel.

"This map confirms our basic understanding of the strait. There are three layers of defense between us and the inner ocean. First, the Glittering Tower, a light house loaded to there pointy elven ear tips with heavy weapons." Normally, those bolts would make Hochland cheese of an old Great-ship, as the bolts were incredibly powerful (though still weaker than cannons).

So by making their ships cannon proof they made them bolt proof. In that sense the Empire had the Brets to thank for that. The naval competition their heavy Galleon's had offered had forced the armoring of the Empire ships and that was paying well off.

"Next is the Emerald gate, a massive gate loaded with massive weapons of its own. Any ship that approaches will get caught in a cross fire of heavy bolts from both the gate and the tower that will rip it apart, not even ironclads can take that kind of power both physical and magical." I think. He added mentally. The plunging fire would be bad but he would give a gun boat even odds.

"Next there's the Strait proper, and here is where are intelligence gets...less clear. Massive white cliffs to either side loaded with even more heavy weapons. Force you way past that gauntlet and you get to the Silver gate and its heavy weapons. Force you way past that and you in Lothern, home to who knows how many elven marines. Then there is one last gate you need to force to get into the inner sea. From that point, there be dragons perhaps literally, as we have no idea what waits for us."

The gunboat captains shot each other looks.

"So, you want us to force are way past some, three gates, get riddled by bolt fire and do what?"

"Nothing, we don't plan to force the gates, yet." Adalhelm said a sly smile on his face.

It was for this reason he had requested the gunboats though. When they did have to force there way past those gates the fully armored Ironclades, with impervious side and top armor would be able to fight their way though the walls of plunging fire to get to the city.

"We will blockade them in strait. To do that we need to mine the mouth of the strait, and to do that we need to destroy the Glittering tower to allow our mine layers to do that and hopefully the rubble will be enough to do a lot of are job for us, if it falls right.

"That thing is supposed to be a monster. How do we bring it down." Mack asked.

"Gun fire." Adalhelm said smugly. "The tower is ancient. It's likely over ten thousand years old. Though impervious to the weapons of its time cannon fire will bring it down." Silence stretched as they truly realized what kind of beings they were at war with. Ones who had formerly ruled the world, who had once commanded the planet.

Now an upstart was taking that from them, with the crash and thunder of cannon fire.

"In any case, the Destroyers torpedos will do enough to take down any ships that come out that gate to help.

The Gunboat captains shot each other nervous looks.

Adalhelm smiled. "Don't worry, you're on defense duty. hopefully the 12 pound long guns of the destroyers and cruisers will do the hard work. You just have to keep them safe while the elven navy come out of the gate, into our kill zone." Adalhelm smiled evilly.

The Gunboat captains shot each other more nervous looks.

Adalhelm sighed, "It won't be that bad. Sealed orders have been delivered to your ships with more details. Do not say a word about the mission to any one until the ship's themselves are under way. Get some sleep at 2000 we begin the operation. Dismissed." the captains saluted and filed out of the room.

"Sigmar damn it." Mack hissed once out of ear shot of the admiral as they walked the hall ways of the Titan. "It never fails, get the ship with the thickest armor and people expect miracles."

Captain Engelbert rolled his eyes, a few of his wounds were throbbing and he wanted to get back to...well he supposed his ship not that it was truly his, yet. At least it did not feel like his yet.

"To be fair you did wreck havoc on the elven ships. I think I saw you, yours the ship with the Beetle flag?" Mack chuckled. "There called Ironclad beetles. I thought it would be funny. Beside lions have been done to death."

Engelbert rolled his eyes. "Think we can stick some Carronades on my destroyer? I really want to make sure the next time I get in a slugging match with a Dragon ship I have an even chance of winning." Mack gave a long laugh.

"That was you!"

"Umm, what was me?" Engelbert said stopping in the middle of the hall way.

"That lunatic who played hard head with a Dragon ship."

"Not my fault." Engelbert countered. "I was trying to put three torpedoes in it,"

"And missed!" Mack just would not stop chuckling. "That was literally the second biggest ship in the world, and you missed!"

"I'll remind you sir," Engelbert snapped. "That many of my men died over what you're chuckling over." That killed his mirth.

"I'm, sorry." he said. "It's amusing on the out looking in but," he removed his had and placed it over his heart. "I was making light of your losses, and for that I am truly remorseful."

Engelbert eyed Mack before extending his hand in forgiveness. "I accept you apology sir, but do remember that if laugh at my wounded and dead again, I shall be morally obligated to challenge you to a duel."

"I shall be obligated to forfeit said duel," Mack said taking the hand. "by shooting myself if I had a shred of moral fiber. Which I don't." He said a bit of his mirth coming back to his eyes and voice.

"I'll make sure to do it for you." Engelbert said with his own half-smile. This whole talk about shooting people was getting a touch awkward so he changed the subject.

"What do you mean by, second largest ship?"

"I've heard rumors about the new flagship they're making in Nordburg.." Mack responded. "Spose to be the most advance ship ever made with more than a few things even the dwarfs don't do on it."

"Really? How big are the cannons?" Engelbert said interested despite himself.

"16 30 pounders, eight per side and four 100 pounders and, get this there all going to be turret mounted"

"Turrets?" Engelbert said. "That's a engineering nightmare if I recall ship building."

"Ya, course that's nothing compared to the 300 pounders they were going to use." Mack said feeling a bit self important as he replaced his hat. "but that would mean they would lose all there broad side ability, all the guns would point to one side."

"I see." Engelbert said. "wouldn't be simpler though to just take an existing ship and cut out space for the 100 or 300 pounders? Like there doing with the captured Breton Gallons?" adding armor to those ships put some of their lower gunports below water, and with out steam engines maneuvering was shot compared to an equivalent Empire ship. They just could not keep up or have the same range. All they could do was gut them into supply ships or turn them into semi mobile floating battery, And since most supply ships were far faster with steam engines they were mostly being turned into battery's.

Since they could barely move any way, they hacked the mast off, so they had to be towed into place then added truly massive 100 pound cannons in the center of the ship to keep balance.

"Ya, but the cannons take up a lot of internal room. They can't do with guns bigger then 100 pounders or you could only have two of them, and beside where are you going to find ships big enough that you can stick more than two 300 pounders on board?"

A though struck Engerlbert like a cannon shell. "how about right out side?" he turned back on his heel to Adelhelm's command room, leaving a confused Mack behind him.

* * *

It had taken a few minutes to explain his plan to Adelhelm, but once he got the idea he had gotten very silent for a few more minutes as he stared at the wall in thought.

"I like it." he said. "It be a bitch to pull off, pardon my Breton, but if are engineers can do it will be worth it and you think the Reckoning can supply the power?"

"Not where it is now sir, no way it can do any good where it is. We would have to transfer the steam engine."

"no good with that." Adelhelm mused as he tried to figure out how that would work. He had invested a fair bit of his personal money into the growing Empire steel industry, so he had a firmer the average grasp on how you made ironclads. "We would have to cut it in half, then put it back together, better off keeping the Reckoning in place. Humm." he did some figures in his head.

"Yes, yes it should work though." he turned his head to look at Engelbert. "That's brilliant. Hopefully we can keep the elves off are back while we do it though. Might take a bit longer than a week, but if we can pull it off in time." He grinned.

* * *

It did take longer than a week.

Two and a half to be exact. Two and half weeks where the elves had been silent, gathering their forces and waiting for the empire to strike, Adelhelm supposed, or rather, his scouts supposed and they were very good.

Late after noon two and a half weeks later found five Destroyers puffing under full steam west, following the setting sun followed by six gun boats and led by a Cruiser.

Engelbert watched the small convoy move forth from the helm of the Ember.

Engelbert unclipped a spy glass and turned it upon the Gunboats chugging behind them.

Thick plumes of wood smoke plumed upward tinting the sky black as the combined fleet chuffed onward.

Further behind the gunboats if one really looked one could see the plumes of smoke from the cruiser towing the newly formed heavy floating Battery Wrath, supported by a destroyer that was screening them.

He clicked his spy glass closed and sighed. There really was not much to do now until they got to the tower. It was time for a waiting game.

He turned to another bridge officer beside him."You have a deck of cards?"

* * *

Lothern was the closest the world came to an international port.

For decades any who wished to trade and partake of the sights of the great elven city (baring those who worshiped Chaos and the Druchii of course), now another race had found the port bared to them.

Or rather another nation since the Bretons were, (in theory) still welcomed. The Empire was to be shot on sight should they show there soot stained, sausage stuffing, beer swindling faces.

So the men of the Glittering light house thought. Current occupier of the ancient and venerable position of commander of the tower Jiquen stood at his post at the peak of the tower.

When darkness fell across the world, magic lights would flared from every inch of the tower, casting a glittering light for hundreds of miles in every direction sending the sea for many miles into glittering jewel like patterns and forms.

But it was late after noon and Jiquen easily stifled a yawn in the warm afternoon sun. Suddenly a cry from a look out, part surprise and part alarm drew every one's attention.

"Commander! Smoke!" every spy glass in the building turned to face the inky black pillar of smoke specked with wood ash that rose skyward.

There were two possibilities. One: an elven ship that was wounded in a battle was limping back home, still smoldering, or the Empire was attacking at last.

Given that any ship with that much smoke was a funeral pyre, or a steamer, it had to be the Empire.

"Put the tower on alert, and inform the mainland." He commanded and the order was spread quickly, bells rung, soldiers awakened, bolt throwers armed and prepared as messages signaled the main to awaken and to prepare for battle.

"Why would the humans attack now?" Jiquen asked aloud, "I figured they would be smarter than to try and go straight for the gates."

Jiquen placed a telescope over his eyes. Clearly illuminated in the sun light the empire ships approached.

12 ships, five of them 'destroyers' (what a arrogant name for there smallest ship) led by a larger 'cruiser' the other 6 were the ugliest ships that had ever to dare take to sea and given the fact the Skaven built ships, that was saying something.

The low squat brutally formed iron slabed...thing, looked about as sea worthy as a shoe box.

A shoe box with cannons on it.

He had no illusions about how dangerous it could be if one of those things got in range though. He had watched a badly battered fleet pass under his watchful eyes two and a half weeks ago, battered by those cannons.

Now those ships were approaching the glittering tower, countless war engines were pointing at them, for countless years no force of a lesser race could dare force the great gates.

But still, he had a sliver of doubt.

* * *

"Glad were not getting close to that thing." Captain Mack muttered at no one as he looked out a thin slit of armor to view the massive tower fortress they were approaching.

It was titanic and built into every third layer of brick work, was a bolt throwers aimed to target anything in sight.

"Glad we just have to hold our position"" Mack muttered again slapping the viewing slit shut with a violent movement.

In the cramp confines of the Iron clads 'bridge' room. He turned to face the small 'talking monkey' behind him.

Sitting in a nest of brass speaking tubes that ran though out the whole ship that small boy had the power to command a some 512 tons of metal and steam power to tap dance should he wish.

Sharply he spoke to the boy surrounded by brass tubing. "Engines, half steam and cease forward movement till we're in position and I don't want to move any closer."

The small fleet of empire ships were hanging back from the tower.

Jiquen scanned the force though his spyglass. "What are they doing?" he said to no one in confusion. He had expected them to come forward at full steam and engage the tower and gate head on.

But they were doing nothing, they were just watching the tower, and the elves in the tower were just staring back.

"What the hell are they waiting for?"

* * *

Six Kilometers away and closing fast the cruiser Assault chugged forward following the coast. The unpowered and newly minted floating battery Wrath under tow behind it and the destroyer Strider flanking the side that faced the sea

And today, the Empire was not unobserved.

Almost a mile away from the battery and cruiser the captain of a pair of hawk ships squadrons, Izin lowered his telescope, hand trembling, with rage at the...abomination before him.

To his eyes not even choas could do worse, what stood before him was a,, a abomination to be purged and burt to the water line to cleanse it of the taint that infused it to its core!

"Captain? What is it?" A marine asked noticing his captain's sudden, agitation to put lightly. "Of course, we're too far away to see." he snapped. "Full sail, we make right for that...that monstrosity then you will see."

Izin's counterpart aboard the Empire Destroyer, was Captain Brunson. From the command bridge Brunson kept watch on the decks below him as as men scurried back and forth.

From behind him the young voice of his talking monkey spoke up. "Sir: Crow's nest reports hostiles bearing south, straight at us."

Captain Brunson only outward sign that he acknowledge the threat was when he put a telescope to his eye to scan the horizon.

The fleet of fast ships quickly filled his telescopes vision, and they were getting larger, fast.

They were close fast, very fast. Brunson had only a little time to react. He put the telescope down, a gruff expression on his scared face.

""Helmsman, hard to port!"" he called over his shoulder. "I want the guns run and and ready for action. Boilers to full steam."

"Yes sir." The young rattling sat and quickly rattled off the orders to the varying stations as alarm bells and whistles blew the warning to the rest of the crew.

Quickly, like a like a great moose turning to present it antlers to a wolf the Strider tilted to face the six Hawkships.

Boilers huffing sending plumes of smoke skyward as it moved forward the Strider's forward.

Rushing forward the Hawkships grouped and quickly formed a battle-line to counter the onrushing destroyer.

"Torpedos fire at will." Brunson commanded with all the ease as if he was in the torpedo room himself instead of the far end of the ship.

A few moments later puffs of steam from the prow of the Strider signaled the deployment of the torpedoes. From above the crows-nest the look out watched the trail of bubbles that signaled each torpedo to track there course.

At the last moment, barely 30 meters away in fact the Hawkships scattered. In an almost impossible movement the agile vessels made an almost 90 degree turns almost making there masts go parallel to the ocean as they twisted away from the torpedoes, and around the Strider.

Wind bellowing sails the fastest ships to ever take to the sea flew around the Strider, their goal was the Wrath and the Cruiser Assault.

But the Strider got at least one volley off.

Cannon fire rippled along its flanks sending plumes of dirty white smoke shooting to either side amidst the muzzle flash and blare of the cannon blast.

The agile hawkships, were fast but lighter than the eagle ships that were the mainstay of the Elven fleet.

When the cannon ball connected plumes of wooden shards and flame shot outward leaving gaping holes in the hull of the hawkships.

Two ships were all the Strider impacted, but those two small ships were blown apart by the high explosive shell that impacted their hulls breaking them apart. The one on the left did not sink, but the mast was so completely shattered that it could not move.

The one on the right sunk, water gushing into its bilge.

Quickly Bruson shouted with out tearing his eyes form the hawk ships.

"Hard to port: reload the canons and prepared for second volley, gattlings free." Firing bells rang out to signal the guns were loaded and ready to fire.

The Hawkships had gotten between the Strider and the Assault towing the Wrath close behind it.

All the worse for them.

The Wrath may have been jury rigged, but there nothing rigged in thee six, 300 pound naval guns within the hull and the range for these guns was 8,200 meters.

It may have lacked a steam engine, but it was the most powerful warship afloat, assuming you attacked on the right since all the cannons were facing that way...

Which the elves were.

Thundering, water pulsed away from the flaming muzzle blast the massive impacted the ships head on penetrating the prows and blowing them apart in massive explosions of wooden shards and hard iron shrapnel.

Even so, not even half the shells impacted, only two Hawkships were hit head on in such a way.

The others were buffeted by shock waves and showered in water.

Izin was almost blown off his feet by the shock waves.

"What the hell are they shooting at us with!" He said his anger as powerful as before they first fired. He did some quick thinking, a cannons reload increased exponential with the size of the shot, if they closed,,

"Sir the destroyer!" he pivoted his head at the cry. That steam power beast was coming in for another pass into their formation.

His anger, and that of his crew may have been up, and nothing would please him more than burning that thing in front of him... but there was no way he could fight it, the destroyer and the cruiser with less than half of his remaining fleet. He growled in rage.

"Hard to port." He finally said. The Hawkships quickly spun turning almost 90 degrees again scattering away.

From the top deck of the Wrath, its captain Joeshe observed the Hawk ships turn and scatter though his telescope.

"Funny, I expected more." He slid as he shut it with a clank. "By Sigmar, when you fire those things you feel it in your liver." Joeshe smiled as he turned to face the oddest member of the floating battery's crew.

Rather then the light powder blue Nordland uniform worn by most of the Empire navy, he wore bright red cloak tinged and outlined in yellow. His hair and well trimmed beard were also vibrant red.

His name was Russet Jackson, A Pyromancer of the Imperial Collage of magic, he and his cabal of fellow wizards had attached to the battery just before they left to keep the elven magics at bay long enough for cannon fire to blow them apart.

"Joeshe." he started "What were we shooting at?"

"Nothing much, a few Hawk ships, I did not see the point of alerting you when less than one volley is what it would take, and what it did take.."

"Very well, just thought I check in."

"You needn't bother. We could likely sink a dragon ship from over kilometer away with are guns."

"Very well. How long till we reach the tower?"

Joeshe drew a silver pocket watch and flipped it open. "Just another half hour."

"Very good."

* * *

Back at the blockade of the glittering tower, aboard the Titan to be accurate.

From the crow's nest a cry echoed down the long brass tube the linked, to the bridge. "Sir! The emerald gate is opening!" as if that was not clear from where Adelhelm was standing.

Adelhelm flipped out his telescope as the crew scrambled to their combat position across the decks of the armored cruiser.

Though the lenses of his spyglass, he could indeed see the gate begin to open.

"Wonder how they do that with out steam power." Adelhelm muttered, magic of course was the answer he reminded himself.

Well it was time to teach these women the power of a cannonade! He snapped his spy glass shut with a violent motion.

"Now it's time to earn our keep." Adelhelm said. "Shoot off a signal rocket! I want those torpedoes firing at will!"

Aboard the Destroyer Ember, the crew were just awaiting the signal, the the launchers were ready, boilers under pressure, all they awaited was a command and they would fire at will.

The Ember lookout had also had seen the emerald gate begin to creep open and Engelbert had his own spy glass trained on the gate.

Then, a crack, a whistle and an explosion as the signal rocket blew loud in the sky high above the fleet.

Before Engelbert had the chance to say, "_There's the signal!_"_"_ the torpedo crews who had been waiting for that signal fired.

Like a line of musketeers each destroyer fired it torpedoes almost in sync of massed fire 15 puffs of steam arching upward, each puff signaling a torpedo flashing into the waters

At the gate, the doors had finally finished opening and the first squadron of hawk ship was emerging from the recently opened. In theory, by the time the hawkships were fully out of the gate, the torpedoes will impacted them.

Engelbert fought the urge to charge charged to the front deck of the Ember to watch plumes of bubbles that followed each torpedo, to try to guess when they would impact the enemy, or if they would at all.

He settled for setting his hands on the railing just outside the bridge room as he watched, tension building up inside.

Suddenly explosions lit up the night.

He looked up. The elven ships were bulging in their mid-sections as torpedo impacts blew the ships half out of the water breaking them in half and sending plumes of water and wood skyward.

He checked his watch, impossible, not enough time had passed for them to get there yet.

So, what had caused those explosions?

Where every it had come from it was reeking havoc on the elven ships another group of explosion rocked the elven fleet sending splinters of wood and plumes of water skyward.

"Second volley!" he called over behind him hoping the talking monkey would hear him and relay it to the torpedo crew people would hear him. They did and a second round of torpedoes were loaded.

As explosions marched though the elven fleet Jiquen watched with a detached disbelief.

Five ships were sinking twice their number of ships. Their elven counter parts were caught in a choke point, a choke point the humans controlled. The torpedos flew fast and furious the explosions blew ships apart, breaking them in half, often damaging more than one ship at time with each explosion.

There had to be something they could do!

They were out of bolt thrower range, but not out of harms way. Quickly he turned to a nearby Sea guard member.

They had a counter attack to raise.

* * *

Adelhelm smiled. "Excellent." The elven fleet was being held in place and it was only a matter of time before the strait got so cluttered with debris that they could either not move forward, or they stopped trying all together.

He opened up a pocket watch. "The Wrath's roughly 60% slower under tow, took us a good couple hours so..." before he could finish his calculation a sudden loud crack and blast of light drew his attention away from his watch.

The afterglow of a bolt of lighting burned into his retinas.

The blast had impacted the Ember blowing the mast in half sending shards of burning sail, shard of wood ablaze, half the mast and all the sails and riging not burnt crashing to the deck below.

thankfully, no powder was stored on the top deck, this fight was strictly a torpedo duel at the moment, but...

The one thing the elves did better then sailing had just be employed.

Magic.

That damn tower had shot a lighting bolt at the Ember, and quite frankly they were lucky to not be turned into a cinder.

Another blaring bolt of thunder this time it impacted the side of the Ember.

The high voltage blast melted armor plating and for one moment electrified the iron armor.

On the top deck, wood began to smoke from the heat of the lighting blast,

In gunnery, the gun ports were fused shut by the heat of the blast and wooden decking smoldered when it touched the hull.

In the boiler room the bolt of energy was too defuse to do damage, but engineers got not lethally shocked as they touched the copper, iron and steel engine and boiler.

Engelbert was frozen in pain, his hands had been gripping the railing, that had been plated in brass and touched the iron armor.

His hands had fused to the brass and his muscles were frozen. He had only one thought going though his head as slowly peeled his fingers away from the brass, leveing a layer of skin behind. _"I think I am cursed." _then he started to yell orders, fighting though the pain in his hands.

"Clear the deck, get that mast into the water!" He tried to draw his cutlass, but his fingers would not respond. "I want a full accounting of the wounded and dead, and some one get me a damn surgeon!"

But the Ember never did stop firing it's torpedos another blast of steam heralding another volley launched, but now targets were getting a bit thin on the water so to speak.

The elven fleet had stopped trying to exit the gate, too many broken spars and shattered wooden hulls blocking the way.

But the tower was counter attacking with the full force of elven magic, lighting bolts and fire balls, the primary long range attack spells. The crew aboard destroyers ducked below deck hoping to hide under the armor plating, and generally that worked. The mast may have been lit aflame but the decking would take a little time to burn, they had time not much but some.

Adalhelm turned to his helmsmen. "Spin us 90 degrees, I want that port side facing that tower, It's time to destroyer it once and for all!"

"Sir!" Gerhard said quickly from his position along side. "Without the Wrath's 300 pounders I'm not sure we can do enough damage to the tower."

"It will draw some attention from those Destroyers, getting hammered out there."

Though they had stopped firing torpedos a little while ago. The destroyers were taking a beating.

The lower slung, harder to hit gunboats were fully encased in armor and were being passed over for the magical fire storm, and when they were hit they were generally intact.

"At this rate." Adalhelm contuned as the cruisers slowly pivoted to turn its port side at the tower. "It's only a matter of time until someone's powder explodes."

As if answering his thoughts just then, someones powder exploded.

The destroyer Pride of Nuln already had its mast ablaze like a torch, men clambering across the burning ropes hoping to get as much sail over board as possible when a lighting bolt struck the side of the ship.

This time, the now electrified armor, arced along the gunner deck and hit a cannon, a preloaded cannon, and a bag of powder that sat nearby.

The cannon fired, filling the deck with black smoke, the powder bag explosion set off a second nearby bag of powder, a chain of black powder explosions soon blew most of the gunnery deck apart.

And rather than exploding out, the armor focused the explosive force inward, blowing the top deck off in a plume of gun smoke, wooden shards and helpless crew sky ward.

Every one, Adalhelm included flinched away from that explosions.

"Sigmar Damn it!" Adalhelm shouted as he ducked low. "Where the hell is the Wrath that tower has to come down NOW!"

The gun ports of the Titan slide open, guns rolled out and thundered a blast of 20 pound solid shot into the tower.

The crash of solid iron upon solid stone echoed as the venerable tower stood firm against the blast of cannon fire.

Jiquen was not a mage so he could only watch the barrages, not help, but even he knew this was not sustainable. The problem was, how much more could they deliver? The winds of magic would only blow for so strong for so long and even elven mages tired. Right now there were expending all there energy in a long range duel they could hope to win, but he dismissed the idea that any cannon could bring the Glittering tower down.

Just then, a cruiser pulled into the mouth of the bay and into view...and chasing it was a Dragonship!

Jiquen frowned as he raised his telescope to his eye. No, not a dragon ship. The mast was gone, the blades removed, the decking was made from crudely hewed wood (that had six odd bulges at equal points along the hull), and the desk was crawling with human soliders. A six holes had been cut into the deck each surviced by a small crane. The puff of six small steam engines sent small amounts of smoke skyward.

His hands balled into fists in anger and rage. They dare take one of the almost sacred dragon ships and use it as... as a trophy! A mobile temple to there perverse machine gods! A destroyer near the rear of the great dragon ship started to pull forward as the front of the dragon dropped anchors.

The normal black smoke that puffed out of the Destroyer funnel suddenly turned into a stream as all power was drawn into the engines, the water behind the vessel seemed to almost churn white with froth as the destroyer chuffed forward turning the dragon ship around.

Despite himself Jiquen was some what impressed. Dragon Ships were the single most massive object afloat, (if you discounted Black arts as 'floating') to move it, even with visable signs of strain was impressive.

Just how 'advanced' was the Empire

Once the ship had compleated about half of it's 180 degree spin though, he was no long impressed even a little.

He was beyond enraged.

His hate broiled, cooked and simmered like the largest bonfire ever and ever elf who saw that ship felt the same.

The port side of the ship had been gutted and emerging like tumors form the side were six massive 300 pound naval guns. The guns protruded from side of the ship a little, so they had gone so far as to nail additional frames to the side so they could work the muzzle loading action and small cranes allowed them to move the massive shells into place.

The would have to gut that ship, take out timbers, rip it apart, destroy a 5,000 year old fighting relic to to fit six of there black as Druchii heart cannons onto it...which they were going to shoot at them.

His heart stopped in a combination of rage and sudden horror. The 12 pound anti ship guns of Empire cruisers and Destroyers were pathetic, they could not damage the glittering tower, not even if they dared get to point-blank range.

But those 300 pound monstrosities on that abomination of a warship? They could, that he knew if given enough time.

As soon as the ship (he could not associate the term dragon with it at all) got in range it fired.

The cannons thundered like a landslide, shock waves of sound violence and flame thundered lighting up the side of the vessel like the ship had been lit on fire.

Concentric water formed under the muzzles as the cannons thundered. With a roaring impact the heavy shells impacted the tower.

The tower gave a shudder as each of the six 300 pound cannons balls sent a vast web of cracks though out the impact areas.

Quickly a barrage of magic was turned upon the new threat a fire storm of energy of the power of a dragon it self the balls of heat, powered by magic and hate flared toward the ship.

What happened next shocked all the elves within the tower. Jiquen included.

The fire balls detonated across the ship in a rolling field of heat and flame, but not ON the ship, but two yards away from it.

When the flame and steam faded the barge had been left unharmed.

For a second Jquen mind was frozen. What had happened? The wooden siding was not even scorched. Then, the answer came to him, and his rage grew more and more potent.

Human mages. Rage grew in Jquen breast before he lost control and shouted to the sky.

"DAMN YOU TECLIS!" That choice long ago to teach the Empire magic was coming back to bite the elves like a puppy that bit its master-hand after growing up into the wolf it truly was

While he raged, the cannons had reloaded, the cranes vastly speeding up the proceeding then if there were land based, and again they thundered like a natural disasters. Barely two volleys and the tower was shuddering, masonry crashing to the sea below.

By now those destroyers that could were beginning to turn to put there there broadside onto to the tower to hammer it as well.

But most of the ships were fighting fires along there masts, casting flaming sails or attacking there own masts with axes if the riging to get to sails were burnt.

The Ember had the additional problem of having the gun-ports seared shut, until a frustrated gunnery captain finally ordered the cannons fired into the seared shut doors blowing them off in plumes of thick gun smoke.

Cannon fire rocked the glittering tower, chunks of stone falling into the ocean at an increased rate. Thundering the cannons kept the rolling bombardment across the tower.

The response was furious.

Magic bolts and blasts targeted the Wrath in a hail of magic. The magical storm taxing the lesser magic users aboard the Warth deeply.

Then they half gave up. They only robbed the magic of enough power to make it splatter ineffectively off the sides of the armor rather then stopping all of it, holding more of their more limited power in reserve.

Again the cannons thundered blowing into the tower, but amid the flat explosions of cannon fire, and the roar of a one side magical duel, a second sound grew louder, and louder still.

The crash of masonry falling into the sea. The crackling and crunching of stone falling to the sea below sounding for all the world like a death rattle.

The tower was being devastated by the cannon fire, the Druchii had in ages past taken the tower to use as a base, but the humans now, they just wanted it gone.

Under Jiquen's feet the tower gave an ominous shudder as another blast of cannon fire impacted it.

Shaking he tightly clenched onto the railing around the lip of the tower top as he tried to keep his balance.

Another crippling barrage of cannon fire, this one from that new cruiser that had towed that barge into place.

"They're not going to stop." Jiquen muttered he had expected an infantry attack to cut in at some point, but so far the mad men only seemed to want the destruction of the tower.

"Commander!" Jiquen turned to face a young sea guard captain who had arrived behind him. He was panting slightly from his run up the tower. His face stained white with dust.

"The structure of the tower is being severely damaged, I'm not sure the tower can last another hour."

The tower was started to reach the point where it was shuddering between the cannon impacts as it intgraty began to fail.

"Then it seems the human will win this battle." Jiquen said, the commander turned to face the human navy that was bombarding the tower relentlessly.

"You have my permission to start the evacuation of any one who wishes to leave, I will not." the tower gave a groan under there feet as cannon fire impacted the fluted sides of the tower, siding not designed to resit cannons. "I will stand my ground, may what come, come, here I shall stay at my post for eternity if need be.."

"As will I." The sea guard captain replied proudly.

The cannon fire did not tire even as the magical duel slowly wound down as the elves began to exhaust their magics, and lost their focus as their tower fell around them.

The Wrath fired its cannons one last time...and then time and the battle seemed to stop. As though all the world decided to grant this great monument a respectful moment of silence as its fate seemingly hung on by a thread, nobody, not even the imperial's daring to breathe and disrupt it...but then at last the tower reached its tipping point.

Like a great mammoth of the north being struck a fatal blow to its heart the tower gave a heart rendingly loud groan that grew louder, and louder as it slowly began to tilt. Bricks falling into the water preempting the actual tower seconds before it crashed into water.

Just before impact Adelhelm suddenly had a thought. What would happen to the **wave** the falling tower would create?

He did not even have time to shout brace for impact.

With a sound the fails human attempts to give it names, like a thousand waves crashing upon a thousand beaches the great bastion of stone, will and magic fell into the sea below.

The great pulse of water the falling edifice kicked up sending the human fleet rocking upward and outward as anchor chains snapped and pushed the human fleet back ward, a pair of destroyers, the Strider and the Warrior crashed together like a massive bell, crushing armor like a warhamer to plate and more then one unlucky crew member to paste.

Pulling him self up Adelhelm made an effort to hold his stomach in. "Sigmar, that sucked." A rattling said summing up the feelings of the Admiral perfectly before he emptied his stomach over the side of the ship.

"I...ugh, need a damage report." Adelhelm said, "And signal the other ships, I want a staff meeting." He cast a look over the shattered ruin of the tower half poking out the water, blocking half of the channel, just enough to make the mining easier.

"I hope our allies survived." Adelhelm muttered to himself. A few of the more attentive captains were lowing life boats into the water to get to the Titan.

Standing up, leg shaking slightly a thought went though Adelhelms mind.

The blockade, had begun. And now, the elves knew this was not going to be something that went away.

The Empire, was coming to stay.

* * *

_**God damn! this took to fuggen long to post!**_

_**The problem is that I'm hard to encourage with out any feedback that people like what I do, I have no incentive to stick with a project, then my attention span winds down and I move on. Thats. . . just how i'm wird. Damn aspergers. **_


	7. Sail out

_With the fall of the Glittering tower and the start of the mining of the strait Adelhelm began to sail back to the nascent Empire naval fort damaged ships in tow, only to discover the most important aspect of the Shifting Isles._

* * *

"That island was not there before." Adelhelm muttered as he gazed though his telescope at an island, one that had not been there before.

The Cruiser Titan was towing the smoking hulk of the Pride of Nuln, while the smaller Destroyer Ember was running as a escort alongside the Titan was loaded with wounded personal.

Adelhelm lowered the scope. "Ratling Burkhard, please fetch me Cheif Navigator Curien, and ask him to bring the map we made on the way in please." The eccentric cartographer had removed the 14 centimeters of the ships brass speaking tube that went to his post claiming; 'the captain uses it to listen to me at night'. That they actually did listen to the crew to prevent mutiny was either a sign of his insight or proof that even a mad man could be correct once a day.

Nodding the young cabin boy took off below deck to fetch the man.

"How bad is it sir?" Flag-Captain Hans Gerhard asked.

"If I didn't know better." Adelhelm said raising his spyglass to his eyes again. "I say that island has moved. I could swear by Sigmar him self that I have seen that pile of rocks before," he gestured at the island before a glint of pure silver metal caught his eye. "what is this? What is this?" an intrigued Adelhelm muttered twice as he focused on the new ship.

Sitting on the shore of the shore of the island, was the hulk of a Dragon-ship, scared and damaged by cannon fire.

* * *

While that was going on Burkhard was busy knocking on the door of the Titan's chief Navigator and cartographer Curien. "Coming!" came the muffed reply along with the sound of objects clattering to the floor from beyond the door as the...eccentric man made his way to the door.

With a click the door slid open into the wall. The pale face of the blond, well shaved man poked out the crack of a door. Atop his head was a precariously preached beret...lined with tin foil.

Upon seeing the well trusted Ratling he broke into a smile.

"Yes Burkhard? What do you need?"

"Admirals order sir, your wanted on deck along with the map you made on the way to the tower."

The smile shattered like glass. "O Sigmar! I did something wrong didn't I?!"

"Maybe? We do seem to be lost."

"I...see. Wait here." Nervously Curien ducked back into his cabin to fetch the map in question. After a a few second of rooting around he found it and quickly left to join Burkhard on the door way.

Locking the door behind him he handed a small folding table to the young ratling. Then spoke, "Shall we?" nodding the young man lead the odd map maker up to the aftcastle.

* * *

"Very strange," Adlehelm said as the Titan slowly slowed to a stop to observe the wreck. "That ship has to be from the battle two weeks ago but. . ." the approach of foot steps took his mind off the mystery before him. He pivoted his head to face the man walking up the stairs to reach the top of the bridge.

"O, yes Greetings Curien, we seem to be having a navigation issue."

"I gathered." he said nervously. "What's the issue?"

"Well, mostly it's the fact the islands are not in the same place they were earlier not to mention..." he pointed at the Dragon-ship. "That ship should have been damaged more to the north East then our present location would suggest. Though frankly I'm surprised that thing washed ashore at all. So does that mean our chronometer or our map's are off? or is there something more sinister at work?" at the prospect of sinister magics and forces Gerhard made sign of the hammer to ward off dark forces.

"Humm. Burkhard, could you..." Knowing already what was being asked of him the Ratling nodded and unfolded the table before he placed it on to the deck. The map maker extended the master copy of the map along the table.

He examined it all the while humming a hymn to the Emperor to calm him self under stress. He looked at the island, then at the map, then back at the island though a telescope, before he put the scope away, the telescope making snapping click as he slide it shut.

"That island has moved." he proclaimed. "That island was far more north then it is now."

"Are sure? I mean, it's an Island for Sigmar sake. You can't exactly stick in a suit case and wander off with it." Adelhelm proclaimed.

"I would stake my rather large naval stipend on it sir, that Island, was here." he tapped a Island on the map. "We mapped it out on the way in sir. That island was here. I _recognize it."_

"That explains the Dragon ship then." Adelhelm said as he noted the location relative to there base. "And why this place is called the 'shifting isles'. But if that's so, how can we make any reliable maps of the area?"

"Frankly, I am at a loss. Forgive me,but the plan was to form a string of island forts to form a clear channel for the land forces?" Adelhelm nodded at Curien.

"Well, that plan is impossible, if these island shift. But how much does each one move? This one clearly wandered a fair bit, but how about others? Does it vary by season? Can it be predicted? Manipulated?" Curiens sharp, if one tracked mind questioned.

"The high elves clearly have a way to get around so I assume we can answer those questions." before he could ask, _but how? _All eyes pivoted on to the ruined Dragon ship.

"Sigmar bless the bold."Adelhelm said with a smile.

"Berkhard: Get Lieutenant commander Otto up here." nodding the Ratling moved to his nest in the speaking tubes and spoke into the proper tubes to get the marine officer onto the bridge.

It took a couple minutes for the man in question to tromp to the bridge from his post in the armory.

A heavy set balding man with a well waxed mustache that the crew often joked acted as a pair of whiskers so he could find his way in the dark. He always wore a key around his neck, the key to the armory that both Gerhald, but not Adelhelm since they lacked a third copy, had on their person.

"Good afternoon lieutenant." Adelhelm said as Gerhald came to attention briefly in respect of the Titan's marine commander. The two exchanged salutes before going at ease. Otto turned to Adelhelm.

"What do yah need admiral?" he said in a heavy set rustic accent.

"A quick question lieutenant: did we set out for the tower with any couple landers?"

The landers were the size of a large launch, 24 feet long with wooden roof over the crew and a swivel mounted gatling gun with a large brass gun mantle to either side on the prow.

Built for the invasion of Ulthan the things were arrow-proof, (From above) and the gunner was safe from everything but then a lucky shot that worked between the gun shields.

The final element was small steam engine the propelled it forward.

"No sir, we only have the Launch." the rustic man answered.

"I thought so, still, shame," Adelhelm said. "Right then, Lieutenant Otto call up a force of volunteers to go ashore, me and Curien,,"

"What!" the nervous man shrieked. "Me?!"

"Yes you, Adelhelm, "you know the most about maps of any one on this ship. I need you to go aboard to help figure out what charts and maps are worth taking.

"I'm more worried about yah going ashore sir." Otto said "I'm fully combat trained if that's your concern." Adelhelm said loosening a ceremonial (but still sharp) saber from it sheath along his hip, before then drawing a revolver and checking the cylinder.

"I won't order my men, especially one not combat trained..." he shot a look at Curien. "To go any where I won't go my self. Flag-Captain Gerhard!" he turned to face the _Titan_'s actual captain. "You're in command of the ship in my absence and in the unlikely event of my death, until then wait for our return. That's an order sir." Otto frowned but did say the right words. "Aye sir."

* * *

the heaving arms of crew of Marines pushed the large 18 foot boat forward as the oars rhythmic rising and falling as the shore line grew larger and larger.

At the prow of the boat, along side where sat a pintle Bull dog Gatling, Adelhelm observed the shore line getting larger and larger, the hulk of the Dragon ship looming like a fallen great whale upon the shore.

Men heaving and grunting the launch crashed upon the shore quickly a group of marines jumped out and amid the pounding surf pulled the boat onto the shore. Leaping out him self Adelhelm helped haul the ship the last feet onto shore.

Otto, who was nominally in command of the shore party (he was not truly due to Adelhelm presence) scanned around and commanded as easily as breathing. "Right, load ya guns and be ready, we have no idea whats out here." nodding the Marines quickly went to work loading there muskets and setting percussion caps to hammers.

The group of marines soon, nervously approached the front of the great dragon ship, the great Dragon blades gleaming in the late afternoon light.

Careful a marine drew a bayonet and taped the tip of one of the blades, the lesser human steel was sliced in half.

He gave a long, low whistle.

"Imagine if they armored there ship with that stuff."

"Don't give them ideas private." Adelhelm said. "we have enough problems as it is." scanning the ship Adelhelm considered how to get in. "Try to find a hull breech we can use, move out." a chorus of aye sirs came back.

* * *

Back at the Empire base in the shifting Isles, the small fort rose rapidly as the Empire solider quickly worked.

Sloped defensive walls were forming of dirt, to be layered with brick later, cannons were being sighted and a sprawling tent city had grown up around the defenses.

A lookout on one of the Cruisers soon spotted a flag on the horizon, a rocket signal flashed upward.

The first Karl Franz class Battleships had arrived, escorting the first of the ground forces for the war.

Armed with a central battery of 30 24 pounders, with 15 gun per broad side. Each gun was double the poundage of a Cruisers cannons along with five 60 pound cannons, there was in theory nothing a Karl Franz could not destroy.

They also had six mounted, gatling guns, three along each side, one aft, one fore, and one in the middle.

How ever, this all came at a cost. In terms of iron, wood and coin, Karl Franzs were massive resources sinks, taking almost a full year to make, and only six of the ships had been made so far, all six had been deployed to Ulthan given that the naval action around the Empire had been raids, battles more suited for faster ships, better able to better match there elven aggressors rapid pace.

The lead ship in the task force, was the _Ironhelm _, which had been named in honor of, and christened by the great dwarf king, in dwarven tradition no less. Though the concept of breaking a bottle of beer on the side of the hull was proving popular among the Empire admiralty.

This particular vessel had also been equipped with an experimental rocket array in the place place of the ten 60 pounders.

At the fore castle of the _Ironbrow_, was the commander of army units that would be present at Ulthuan. Field Marshal Ludwik von Warenhari, an old man with graying hair, and a well shaved mustache.

Unlike most old generals, he had a mind supple enough to grasp the new age of battle that was upon them. In fact he had helped pen the concepts of 'combined arms' warfare between infantry, artillery, cavalry and gatling guns. He scanned the flags of the assembled navy that was already around the island though a telescope.

"Where is Harmon?" he muttered. "His flag should be flying proudly from one of those ships."

He lowered the telescope turning to a ratling behind him. "Please inform the captain to signal the nearest vessel, I wish to know where Admiral Harmon, is located currently."

"Yes sir." the young man ran off. Ludwik had no idea where Harmon could be.

Harmon was a very careful man, and this whole plan was, wrong for him really. Far too aggressive and risky. Spliting the invasion fleet in three parts? The Cruisers, Gunboats and finally the battle ships arriving separately.

That last one could be explained easily enough by having the heaviest ships guard the transports, and the fact they did not expect the elves to react so fast.

But even that assumption ran against Harmon nature, he was a careful commander, one who disliked risk. Some would call him cowardly, and there was some evidence to that claim. But his preferred tactic of using massive overwhelming force at any one time and place was devastatingly effective, as more then one Norse tribe could attest to having been woken up by a squadron of Cruisers pounding there village to twigs.

In fact one could almost single handed place the end of Norse raids on the empire upon his shoulders. Hence why he had been chosen to repeat his success and humble the elves, once and for all.

Yet, where was he?

"Sir," Ludwik turned to face the Ratling he had sent off. "The acting commander, Vice Admiral Junlen signals that Admiral Adelhelm..."

"Adelhelm? He's in command?" Ludwik interrupted. That explained a lot.

Harmon was a careful man, Adelhelm was also careful but but his definition of careful... was flawed compared to most people. He tended to prefer the elimination of risks rather then the prudence of mitigating them.

He held to the philosophy of_ 'Not only strike while the iron is hot, but make it hot by striking'_ and was far more aggressive (and younger) then Harmon ever was, preferring to actually lead his battles. But he was not an old fashion man as given to old fashion flights of nobility as Harmon was.

He had once been quoted as saying, "The oil can is mightier than the sword." he firmly believed that the Empire's could only assure it's destiny and protect it self by embracing the change that was sweeping the land and he was a firm preponderant of the creation of new Dampf panzers or steam tanks.

Take that as you will.

But what was he doing here? And more importantly: what was Harmon NOT doing here."

"What have you gotten your self into Adelhelm." Ludwik muttered under his breath.

* * *

While there was not a hole in the dragon ships side on the ground level, there was one only a little off the ground...an easy enough target for a grappling hook toss.

Spinning the metal hook over his head the Marine sent the long hook flying into the gap, after tugging on it a few times to see if it was stable, he frowned.

"I, don't think it hooked onto something strong."

"Well, this is the third throw, whose the lightest man here?" Adelhelm asked. The problem was, marines were big people, strong sailors, not dantie. Add that to the weight of there Rifles, grenades, cultess and pistols, and they were all quite heavy.

"I suppose that would be me." Adelhelm said, being of a more average build, and wearing only officer equipment, a Saber, and a double action revolver, was the lightest one there.

"But, sir." before the marine could speak Adelhelm cut him off.

"The sands plenty soft enough that a fall from that height wouldn't hurt me." he took hold of the rope. "I'll get in and fix the grapnel to something strong enough to take our weight."

With that he took to the knotted rope and started shimmering up it.

The gap was almost 15 feet in the air, caused by a torpedo if he had to hazard a guess. He was half way up the rope, when it suddenly slipped, falling down ward.

"I'm fine." he called down quickly and kept climbing up it, a bit faster in fact.

When he got to the top, he considered his next move, the wood around the hole was jagged and sharp like wooden spears.

But, something was off. Each wooden dagger was covered silver, like it was coated with silver amber. He reached out and touched one of the splinters, pulling back a pricked finger.

Carefully, he picked his way around the larger splinters as he worked his way into the ship, his hands getting pricked and stabbed by the countless swords.

Wincing he finally got high enough he could use his boots to push himself up the last few feet.

Panting after the climbed he looked around for what the grappling hook had snagged on, gagging, he found it.

it had hooked its self on an elf corpse slicing though the intestines until it reached the spine catching there, the legs were pinned under a large chunk of lumber from the ceiling.

Adelehelm could not even tell if it was a male or female given how decayed it was.

Gagging Adelhelm called over the side.

"Toss up another grappling hook please, I...really don't want to touch this one."

A few seconds later a grapple was thrown into the gap. Adelhelm snagged it out of the air.

"The wooden splinters are a bit much, I'll get to the top deck and get the line to you that way."

"Understood Admiral!" Otto called up.

Wrapping the rope and the hook around his shoulder then drawing his pistol in one hand, his sword in the other, Adelhelm became the first human to set foot upon a defeated Dragon ship.

* * *

An elf with a light tan squatted by a saltwater pool.

His once immaculate uniform was torn and grubby, stained by powder burns and shrapnel.

The top have had been ripped away to create bandages leaving his torso exposed. Right now, he waited, a bow and arrow held in his hands as he awaited his prey.

Then, a large brightly colored, fat, delicious, tropical fish, swam out from under its rock and began feeding on the algae along the rocks.

Licking his lips, stomach growling, Almn drew the bow back, took aim and released.

The perfect shot transfixed the fish. Smiling widely Almn grabbed the arrow out of the water.

"And they said I needed a rod." he chuckled to him self. As he started to walk along the beach back to the elf camp. His mirth died as he realized that his choice of direction would lead him to the Star Runner.

Seems even his unconscious mind would not let the death of the great ship rest easy.

Most of the crew had died, killed by cannon fire and raked by gatling guns.

Only about 300 of the once 1,000 man crew had lived though the Humans wrath.

And that number shrunk ever still as wounds and infection took there toll upon the living.

Captain Qulm alone had found his left arm torn to shreds by iron shrapnel, now a ruined bloody chunk of useless torn flesh attached to his chest.

A lot of the crew were in similar straits, and infection in this warm, moist tropical environment* killed more of them every day, and at least one of there number had already developed a case of Malaria.

Mages dead, they had no way to contact the rest of Ulthuan so they were well, and truly stranded.

Sighing the slow curve of the beach soon let the massive form of the Star Runner into view.

But something was wrong, forms had gathered around the ship, and even at this distance he could tell they were Humans by the powder blue uniforms.

Before they could spot him he collapsed to the ground taking cover under a sand dune.

Carefully, he peeked over the ridge, sitting just off shore was an Empire cruiser, and behind it was a destroyer.

After a moment he realized the destroyer had basicly been baddy damaged and was under tow.

So the humans were not as invincible as they had first appeared.

But, what were they doing?

Carefully Almn crept forward, fish left behind, long bow string at the ready.

He shot a glance at the long boat that sat nearby. It was currently empty.

For a moment he had the vision of him getting in the boat, and using that prow mounted gatling, to destroy the humans with there own hell spitting abomination.

He tossed that thought away in a second. He had no idea how to use one of those things, you had to turn a crank, but, then what? Did you just point it? How did you aim? Reload? Was it even in range?

Carefully he crawled closer, trying to figure out what the humans were doing.

Right now they were just sitting around a rope hanging out of the side of the great dragon ship.

Suddenly a cry from behind him spun him round, he pivoted on to his back to see the source.

He had error ed.

The human who had been guarding the long boat had gone behind a sand dune to 'dig a latrine**'**

And that had hid him from the spying elf, but now, now he was back and he had spotted the elf. He fumbled getting his rifle off his shoulder as he draw it even as he cry the alarm.

Quickly Almn set a arrow to the string, drew it back to full draw and fired, the quick snap shot was less then perfectly aimed and the arrow impact his shoulder in a non lethal wound. Gasping the marine fell to the sand clinching his arm in pain even as he shouted alarm.

The cracks and explosions echoed as the musketeers who had been around the rope fired there muskets sending puffs of sand sprouting around his head.

Quickly, while they were reloading, he flipped on to his feet and made for the forest.

The loose sand robbed him of balance and for a moment he fell to his knees, just as a bullet whistled over head.

He got back on his feet, bullet kicking up plumes of sand behind his feet and whistling over head. He finally got into the forest behind the cover of the trees, pinging after him all the while.

Back at the Dragon-ship, the marines were reloading there rifles.

"Check on Avland." the Otto a marine ordered the designated marine nodded and took off to do just that."

"Well, the survivors of this thing know where here, how can this get worse."

* * *

A squadron of Eagleship searched the islands for any sign of the humans. They had not yet gotten word of the Glittering Tower yet.

The squadron rounded a island, and found two things, the shattered, but salvageable hulk of a Dragonship, and the Empire Cruiser and two destroyers.

The problem was, Captain Yal, commander of the squadron had learned the hard way the empire was neigh impossible to defeat to defeat unless there were lots of you.

Still, they had not noticed them yet, check that. They were turning to present there starboard broadside.

That turn also showed him that one destroyer was under tow given how it moved.

Best, to wait, other squadrons would show up at some point. Then it would be time.

He put the spy glass down. "Helmsmen, signal the other ships, tell them to scatter and find some of our other squadron, then come back, we will need the help."

"Understood sir." the helmsmen started to signal the other ships.

* * *

"Sir we have a problem." Hans Gerhard nodded at Burkhald as he observed the eagle ships scattered, they had to be getting reinforcements.

There was no way the Titan could out pace them, the wind was blowing west to east, so as the cruiser, dragging the pride of Nuln behind it, made its way back to the empire base it would have the far faster Elven ships behind them.

Maybe if they made off now, but Adelhelm was still ashore.

"Damn it." Hans muttered, He pivoted to Burkhald "Signal gunnery: I want Master Gunner Buchert up here right now and get another group of rowers!"

* * *

Aboard the Dragon-ship, Adelhelm had gotten lucky.

He had found a lamp, and it was both intact and still full of oil, and thankfully he had a lighter, a good officer always kept a lighter if not for him self then his fellow.

It took a couple try's to get it to work but he finally manged to get the lamp lit.

He slide his sword back into its sheath, the lantern taking it's place in his hands.

The ship was silent, foreboding, the hall ways strewn with wooden debris. It was an odd thing, almost dead, but not quite. He was tempted to say it was dreaming, but it could not be, it was only a ship.

Adelhelm's mind took all this in with but a thought. He had inflicted such damage, and for the first time he observing the result of the Empires fine gun work.

The walls were silver with spilled sap from the once, and maybe how it still flowed in places, still living ship.

Most of the body's were gone though, perhaps they missed the one below?

Right now though his biggest problem was he kept getting lost. These ships were built like mazes, at least to him, the crew working on the Wrath had reported the same confusing lay out.

He turned a corner and entered another bunk room, before he turned, a flash of silver on the ground got his attention.

Carefully he entered the room, eyes nervously flitting from side to side. Elves favored beds rather then the hammocks the empire used, and they lined the walls. This was the bunk room.

In the center of the room he knelt down and picked up the piece of silver.

He gave a low whistle.

It was not silver at all, but something else, he thrummed though his mind for the exact name.

"Aluminum. That's it."

The 'thing' it self was a simple aluminum ring, inscribed with a intricate network of gold lines and patterns. The ring was on a chain of aluminum and gold.

Adelhelm tried to calculate the worth of it. The numbers made his head spin, this much aluminum, gold and fine craftsmanship?

He looked at the interior of the ring, he had learned how to read elvish for this campaign, in case a map or some other note was captured and so he understood the flowing script.

_"To my dearest, may we never be apart."_

Quickly a pit form in the depth of Adelhelm's stomach. In all likelihood, his cannons had driven this elven couple apart.

Carefully he pocketed the necklace before looking around some more. Each bunk had a small nich carved into the wall nearby, and though a lot of the items were scattered, some were not.

Small crude drawings from a child's hand, lines of flowing elven poetry, trinkets and memorable.

The whole thing was, uncomfortably similar to the Titan, to the human crew as well.

Nervously, as if he knew he was some where he was not suppose to be he stood up...only to hear the snaps of gun fire out side.

Quickly he left the room to make it to the top deck.

* * *

The Titan was running on high alert, lookouts straining for any sign of any elven ship.

The Ember nearby was also scanning the horizon, the shattered mast meant they had a harder time on look out then the Titan.

So it was inevitable that the Titan spotted the elven ships first.

Three forces, one for each ship of the first squadron.

From the north: 4 Eagle ships, west, 6 Eagle ships supported by a trio of Hawk-ships, and from the east?

Four eagle ships, and a Dragon-ship.

"GOOD FRIGEN SIGMAR!" Hans screamed in more then a little panic.

The empire was good, but that many? They were doomed! "Where the hell is Adelhelm!" he yelled aloud.

"Sir, I can not recommend strongly enough that we send some signal rockets." Hans turned and glared at the second mate "The elves already know we're here, but if any human ships are near, they won't."

"Agreed, send up a rocket."

* * *

50 miles, west a destroyer, the Bruiser scouted for any sign of Adelhelm.

The Bruiser was a different type of ship as compared to the far more common Combatant class destroyer, it being a Brawler class.

Brawlers lacked the torpedo system, but made up for it with a pair of forward facing 60 pounder cannon in place of the launchers.

But the weight of the cannons and shot so far forward, adversely affected the ship's maneuvering so they were as agile or fast as a Combatant class, but they were cheaper, and easier to resupply, given that all they needed was powder, and a big cannon shell.

The captain of this ship was Anselm, and the flash of red on the horizon told him that a empire ship was in trouble, and a lot of it given by how many rockets that ship was sending skyward.

But there was only one of them Sigmar damn it, how could they help?

"Sir," Anslem turned to his master gunner. "I had a thought. What if we fired off all our rockets?"

"We would waste are rockets for one." Anslem replied.

"No, I mean, the elves may think there's a lot more of us then there are if we fire off everything. It may drive them off, or draw some away."

"Humm, good thought. Do it." he ordered.

* * *

A suddenly barrage of multi colored signals pieced the sky. Red, blues, greens, yellows, every color in the empire signal rocket arsenal.

"...what the hell are they doing?" Hans asked.

Whatever it was, it seems to have worked.

The western eagle ships suddenly started flashing flags at each other, as if they were trying to come to a important decision.

Seemingly reaching there decision the eagle ships swung round to face the source of the signal rockets and took off toward it.

"Maybe that was that plan?" Hans muttered. But they still were running out of time. The elven fleets were only a few minutes out.

Where the hell was Adelhelm?!

* * *

Adelhelm blinked in the sunlight as he suddenly emerged on the top deck of the ship.

Taking his baring Adelhelm moved to the port side where his crew were waiting. Locking the hook on a piece of the railing he threw the long rope over the sides.

"All right you can..." before Adelhelm could say climb up the thick voice of Otto cut up to him.

"Git down here sir! The elves have found us and were out numbered!"

"Sigmar damn it!" Adelhelm called down grasping the rope tightly as he slid rapidly down to the ground.

"Did you get what we came for sir?" Curien asked nervously casting an eye to the tree line.

"No, what is it?" Adelhelm said looking back in the trees as well.

A band of elves were watching the humans every move.

"I see, any move?"

"None sir, they try to hurt us we cut them down with gatling fire, and we don't want to waste bullets, they know it and we know it. So were just staring at each other.

"I see." Adelhelm said distracted. "Load up." he ordered. "I want every one ready to shove off in 30 seconds."

"Yes sir!" the chorus of marines called back and they split off to the launch.

Adelhelm though, stayed behind. He took the ring and chain out of a pocket, he looked at it, then at the elves.

"You missed one!" he called out the top of his lungs. Even at the distance the elves were at, (well out of bow range) he could see there confusion. "I assume you thought you buried all the dead aboard the ship. Well you missed one, we accidental stuck a grappling hook into...him." He said as he lightly tugged on the rope in-question before dropping the necklace and turning to head back to the launches.

* * *

**_bozhe moy! I am one lazy ass F_R I hope I can get my ass to put these up faster, and stick to my freken one a week scheduled!_**


End file.
